


Murphy's Law

by gabrielleabelle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Dark, Gen, Suspense, Torture, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabrielleabelle/pseuds/gabrielleabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Giles hadn't killed Ben in <i>The Gift</i>? It is now mid-season 6, and the Scooby gang is falling apart when Ben awakens from his coma, letting loose an angry Glory. Buffy, dealing with post-death depression, bills, an "evil" Trio, and a faltering support system, now has to contend with a vengeful hellgod. Just when things couldn't get worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Invocation

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying something different. This is an idea I had while watching _The Gift_. It wouldn't go away. I'm still working on my Williamfic and will post it when it's completed (Should be soon). This one, though, is a much darker WIP that I'll post as I write it (Since I have a full outline for it anyway. It's a change). I hope you enjoy. :)

"Guess we're stuck with each other, huh baby?" Ben laughed bitterly, feeling the disgusting mixture of blood and bile bubble in his throat.

The Slayer had beat him to within an inch of his life. No, not him. Glory. But the line between the two had been fuzzy for a while now. Ben remembered every punch, every kick, every damn swing of the fucking hammer.

A shadow appeared above him, and Ben squinted to try to focus. His eyesight was fading.

"Can you move?" A soft British voice asked. One of Buffy's friends.

Ben was hopeful. It was the older man that Ben had helped save in that abandoned gas station outside of town. Hopefully, this man's sense of fair play would work to his advantage right about now. Ben knew that there was no way he'd make it without help.

"Need a minute," he replied. "She could have killed me."

"No, she couldn't. Never. And sooner or later, Glory will re-emerge and make Buffy pay for that mercy, and the world with her." The older man's voice was wistful. "Buffy even knows that, and still she wouldn't take a human life."

There was a violent shudder in the ground, resonating up through Ben's bruised bones. He gritted his teeth, only to regret it as his head cried in agony. From the side, somebody called in a panicked voice: "Giles!"

The older man's attention was immediately drawn away. He stood from the crouch and rushed away from Ben, who couldn't even turn his head to see what had distracted him.

There was another shudder, and Ben surrendered to darkness as a pile of rubble crashed down onto him.

The darkness lasted only moments to Ben. Moments of blissful unawareness until he suddenly came back to himself.

The world was fuzzy. His limbs didn't move as he remembered they should. And everything around him was black.

His eyes were closed.

Just the effort of opening his eyes was a struggle he could barely muster the strength for. When he succeeded, he was staring at the stark, sterile ceiling of Sunnydale Hospital. He knew that ceiling well. He knew that building well.

The life monitor maintained a steady beeping noise as Ben cautiously turned his head. No pain. In fact, there was no pain anywhere. Just the dullness of unused muscles. He'd been in the hospital for a while.

He experimented by wiggling his toes, trying to determine how much control he had over fine motor functions. He was inordinately overjoyed to see movement down by the foot of his hospital bed. No paralysis, at least.

His joy was cut short, however, as a familiar buzzing noise filled his head. He cringed, knowing what it meant. He didn't want it to happen, though. Not now. Not when he had to figure out how long he'd been unconscious.

He was too weak, though, and the hellgod burst through.

Glory took in her surroundings, her head throbbing. She looked down.

"Ew," she picked at the flimsy hospital gown. "This is a nightmare."

Standing on wobbly legs, Glory ripped the IV from her arm and held onto the edge of the bed. She used to have minions. Nice, wonderful, ugly little minions who would be able to help her get what she needed.

And then what she needed entered the room. It wandered right in wearing hospital scrubs with short, disheveled hair from a long day's work. Glory smiled as the nurse stared at her in surprise.

"What…where did Ben go?" The woman moved forward, picking up Ben's file from the foot of the bed.

Glory lunged at her, tackling the other woman to the ground with all the strength she had and sinking her fingers into her brain.

Boundless energy shot through her, and Glory felt renewed with a power she hadn't had in years. It was electrifying. It was glorious. It was kinda tingly. She laughed, shoving the pale and sweaty nurse off her.

She'd missed her portal home. She knew it. That vampire slayer had screwed it up for her. That bitch had to pay. But first, Glory glanced down at her hospital gown again. First, she'd have to get some decent clothes.

***

Buffy was in heaven. For brief moments, as long as her lips were in contact with Spike's, the hell that was this world disappeared, and she could pretend she was back in heaven. Spike pulled back to let her breathe, but she didn't let him pull away entirely. She needed him. Not as a member of the Scoobies or a protector of Dawn. No, she needed him to help ease the pain of living.

Her arms kept him at elbow's length. She couldn't let him embrace her. She didn't need him like that. She needed his mouth, his tongue, the passionate love he was trying to convey to her with his touch. She greedily took it all. But an embrace? That was too intimate. She couldn't give him that.

Giles had left her today. But it didn't matter because she would forget everything with this one kiss.

***

Willow was in the only refuge she had right now: the bathroom. It was the only place she could go to avoid Tara as she cleared out her things to leave. Leave her. Because Willow had tried to fix things.

It wasn't fair, this whole leaving thing. Tara was supposed to understand that she was trying to help. It wasn't her fault that the spell had gone wrong. Tara had always understood before. Always.

Willow wished she could start the day over and try again. She wished that Tara had never found out about the first memory spell. She wished she could disappear into the tiled floor and not have to deal with any of this.

Things just couldn't get any worse.

***

His reading material wasn't very interesting. At least, it wasn't interesting enough to distract him from what he was doing. He was going against every instinct in his body in leaving Buffy at this time. And yet, he knew it was what he had to do. It was for the best. She couldn't keep relying on him, especially not at a time like this.

He hated leaving. If he could, he would have stayed with her until he died. But it was high time he started thinking like a Watcher again, not a father.

There was a crash from the flight attendant's kitchen area, but Giles ignored it, assuming that a glass had broken. The man sitting next to him, Charles, nudged his arm, though and leaned over.

"Who's she?" Charles whispered loudly.

Giles' hand gripped his armrest when he saw her. Curly blonde hair, pristine make-up, and a deceptively fragile-looking red dress. Glory was standing in the aisle, staring straight at him.

"There you are!" The hellgod exclaimed. "I have been looking all over for you!"

Thoughts raced through Giles' mind as he stood on surprisingly stable legs. Ben. He had meant to take care of Ben during the battle but had been distracted when a tremor had nearly sent Tara down a chasm. When he'd returned, there was a pile of rubble over the body. Giles had assumed the young man had been killed.

He'd been wrong.

"Glory," he said. "You're looking well."

"Yeah, I was doing a little beauty sleep, you know," Glory gazed around at the other passengers. She smiled at them before continuing. "I do remember, before old Ben konked out, that you were yammering on about little Miss Slayer not being able to kill Ben or something? Yeah?"

"Kill? What the hell is going on?" A middle-aged man in a business suit stood up a few rows behind him.

"Oh, sweetie honey. Don't interrupt our convo," Glory said, flicking a finger at the man. The man collapsed back onto his seat, convulsing from suffocation before going limp. Glory crossed her arms and turned back to Giles expectantly.

They were miles above the Atlantic Ocean. Giles wasn't sure how Glory had gotten onboard. However, he was certain that she fully intended to make sure that the plane never reached its destination.

What he had feared had come true. Glory was back, and she was looking for vengeance.

"Why bother continuing the conversation, Glory? You're here for a purpose, I'd wager. I have no defense against you. I'll not trade verbal jabs for your entertainment before you slaughter me," Giles said.

Glory smiled, tilting her head to the side. The rest of the cabin watched her in fearful expectation. Some people had their cellphones out and were speaking quietly on them.

"I'm not gonna slaughter you, Rupert," she chided. "The pilots are dead. The plane's going to crash very soon. And you all will die." She shrugged. "Sorry."

A quick glance out the window showed that they did seem to be dropping in altitude slowly. She must be manipulating the plane to stay in the air for the time-being. Obviously, something had happened to magnify her powers.

"To all of you guys on your little phones," she called out. "Tell your loved ones that Glory did it. Glorificus. G-L-O-R-Y. I want them to get the message out." She turned back to Giles. "I want your Slayer bitch to know who killed you, Watcher. I missed my chance to go home because of her. And she will be punished."

She was gone in the next moment. The moment after that, the plane started to buffet wildly and masks fell from the ceiling. Giles fell back onto his seat, elbowed harshly by a panicked Charles reaching for the mask. Giles didn't join his neighbor in that task. He knew that it was hopeless. Glory would ensure that nobody would survive this crash.

Looking out the window, he could see the ocean approaching them ever closer. He closed his eyes, wishing that he could talk to Buffy one last time before -

_TBC..._


	2. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who left feedback on the previous chapter. Thanks also to those who just read it, even if they didn't say anything. This chapter has some dialogue from _Smashed_, though events are about to veer away from canon. Please enjoy.

Spike was messing with her head. And with other parts of her.

She was in a fog. She had been since she'd come back. It was a dark fog that made her slow, and it made it difficult for her to think about what was going on around her. Or care. Most people were far enough away, she couldn't see them through the haze. And she didn't want to see them.

Spike, however, was right in front of her. She couldn't not see him. She knew, if she chose to, she could take him and forget about the fog around her. Just be with him. But she was afraid of where that might lead her.

And it sure didn't help that Spike had been a complete ass about the kisses.

If only she hadn't kissed him those times. Then she could still take his company without him offering her more. Talking to Spike was okay. Drinking with Spike was borderline-bad. Getting physical with Spike? Completely out of the question.

She'd wanted to talk to Willow about it, but then Willow was distracted because she'd just de-ratted Amy, and really now, couldn't Willow have done this way earlier?

Buffy walked down the steps to see Amy hunched over a plate of cookies while watching TV. It was odd. Apparently, her hair had grown while she was a rat.

"How you doing? You need anything?" Buffy sat down beside her.

"No. Thanks. Good cookies." Amy chirped. No, no. She wasn't a rat anymore. She said it. She didn't chirp. "I'm sorry about your mom."

And that unexpected display of sympathy hit Buffy like a punch to the gut. She liked it. It was better than feeling numb. "Thanks." Her stomach churned as her eyes were drawn to her mother's photo. Feeling grief was better than feeling nothing.

"Crazy all the things that have happened since I went away."

"No kidding."

"Snyder got eaten by a snake, the high school got destroyed…"

"Oh!" Buffy interrupted, trying for perky. "Gatorade has a new flavor. Blue."

"See, head spinning." Amy said.

Buffy tried to go along with the banter, but was distracted when the news came on.

"We have some breaking news. It's been reported that there's been some sort of terrorist attack on American Airlines flight 134 going from Los Angeles to London-Heathrow. Authorities aren't releasing any information except that the flight crashed somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean.

"Second-hand reports from family members of passengers who received panicked phone calls from their loved ones say that there was a woman involved in bringing the plane down.

"The Defense Department has invoked SCATANA to ground all domestic air travel and international flights have been grounded by the FAA while they investigate as to who is responsible for this tragedy. It is unclear, at this time, if this attack has any connection with the recent attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on September 11th.

"Rescue efforts are currently underway to try to find survivors of the crash."

Her stomach dropped. "Will!" She called, standing and going back up the stairs, leaving Amy behind.

"What?" Willow came back out of her room.

"Will, what was Giles' flight number? Back to London?"

Willow looked flustered, "I…I don't know, Buffy. He just left. He didn't give us an itinerary."

Buffy shook her head. She knew. She knew that that report was about that flight. Life couldn't possibly grant her any mercy right now.

Running back down the stairs, she grabbed the phone, ignoring Willow and Amy coming up behind her. She dialed The Magic Box.

"Hello, and thank you for calling The Magic Box, where we're happy to take your money!" Anya's perky, grating voice answered the line.

"Anya, do you know what Giles' flight number was?"

"Buffy? Well, yes. At least, I have the records," there were some sounds of movement. "Besides, the flight's long gone. If he missed it, then he's going to have to reschedule."

"Anya -" Buffy gritted her teeth.

"Oh! Here it is. I have it in my special 'Silent Partner' file. It's where I put everything relating to Giles."

"Anya, please…" Buffy said again. She heard Willow's gasp behind her and knew the redhead was watching the news report about the crash.

"Let's see, he left LA on flight 134."

"Yesterday?"

"Yes. What's this about?"

Buffy couldn't answer. She turned back to the TV and met Willow's eyes. She swallowed down her tears. "His plane crashed."

***

The world was punishing her for something. She couldn't figure out what, though.

At least when Giles had left, she still knew she could call him. But he was gone. Completely gone. And Buffy couldn't bear to think about it. If she stopped to think about the pain, the hopelessness, the complete emptiness she felt inside herself, she knew she would curl up in a hole somewhere and never come out.

She had responsibilities. Somehow, she had to take care of them.

So she hunted. She left Willow to cry with Xander, Anya, and Dawn, and she went out to patrol. She couldn't possibly mourn with them. She knew what they did to people who died. They took away their peace and shoved them back into a world that obviously didn't want them.

The vampire in front of her had stopped fighting back minutes ago. She didn't care. She wished she could be mad at it, but she couldn't blame it for giving up. She staked it and walked away.

"I don't know. Y'don't seem to have that same zest that I'm used to."

Buffy's shoulders sagged as she turned around to face Spike, her ever-persistent shadow.

"Not tonight, Spike," she said, knowing that she sounded like she was begging. She knew that right now, after hearing about Giles, she'd be likely to give into the temptation he offered. Anything to drown out the pain.

Spike stomped out the cigarette he'd been smoking and approached her. No, he prowled towards her, showing off the grace and litheness of his body. She knew full well she could take advantage of what he was showing her if she wanted. She could take that body and pour out all her anger and sadness and pain, and he would let her.

She couldn't let that happen.

"What's the matter, pet? Not afraid of the Big Bad, now are you?" He leered, leaning closer to her.

She shook her head, backing up a step. "I'm going home." Hopefully, the moaning mourners would be gone by now. If not, she'd just wait around outside till they all left.

As she turned away from him, Spike grabbed her arm, exerting just enough force to keep her still.

"I'd wager that you don't really fancy seeing any of your mates, luv. Look," he stepped forward again. "Not asking for another kiss." He grinned, eyes overtly running down the length of her body. "Though I wouldn't complain. But we've partnered up before for the patrolling. No reason you have to run off just 'cause I show up."

"Yes, there is," she said. "I don't want to be around you." Her heart was beating, and she knew he could hear it. Her heart always beat faster around him. It's usually why she sought him out nowadays. She sometimes doubted that she was really alive, and, with Spike, she could always feel her pulse. It frightened her. It excited her.

But now, with Giles, it was too much. She didn't want to deal with it. She wanted the comfort that the fog offered her.

He just smiled, though, tilting his head. "Y'don't mean that."

"Spike, let go of me," she tugged away from him and started walking back to her house.

"Buffy, stop walking away from me!" Spike called out, obviously frustrated.

She felt his hand on her shoulder, and she whirled around, punching him in the face. She had to get him away from her. She couldn't let him get close. Punching had always seemed to work before.

This time, though, he punched back. Buffy was unprepared for the blow, and she fell back onto the ground, rolling to slowly stand up. When she did, Spike was kneeling, looking puzzled with his hand to his head.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to stake him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to be buried in one of the graves she was standing on. She wanted Giles to not be dead.

But she didn't want to deal with Spike.

Buffy walked back over to Spike, punching his nose again and sending him sprawling back onto the ground.

"You're just a thing," she said in a shaky voice, trying to find the conviction to believe the words she was saying. "An evil, disgusting thing. And I _don't_ want anything to do with you. All right?"

Without waiting for a response, Buffy turned to go back to the refuge that was her house, hoping against all odds that the others wouldn't be there.

***

Willow didn't think there were any tears left in her. She'd cried so much in the past year. Mrs. Summers. Buffy. Tara leaving. And now Giles. Her pillow was soaked through, and she was too lazy to get up and find another one. So she just lay in her own tears.

If Tara were still with her, she could hold onto her. That would help. But Tara had left.

They'd kept the news on for a while, but it quickly became apparent that there were no survivors. Giles was gone. And not across-the-world gone but gone gone.

It was the next night when Amy suggested going out to the Bronze to cheer Willow up. Willow eagerly jumped on the offer. She needed to get out. Lying around, crying, thinking about Giles, wanting Tara. She couldn't deal with that.

When the Bronze hadn't done its job in cheering her up, Amy had leaned closer to her and suggested a better place to go. Willow had agreed without hesitation.

Anything to stop the pain.

The place wasn't clean. And it was giving off some bad mojo vibes. But, soon enough, Willow didn't care. The guy called "Rack" gave her some sort of magic boost, and Willow felt electrified.

She was outside herself. She was everywhere, and she was everyone. What had happened didn't matter, because she was above all of it. She was outside of it. And in the base of her spine was a tingly pleasure that she'd rarely ever felt before.

It was the best of magic.

Willow didn't quite know what Rack was doing. He'd managed to tap into her own magic, somehow, and give it a jolt. Churn it up so she was buzzing. Through half-lidded eyes, she could see the arcs of energy fly across the room. Amy was collapsed in some rat-eaten armchair, laughing at something.

This was far beyond anything Willow had experienced. Calling back Angel's soul, fighting Glory, Tara. Even Tara. Nothing compared.

She forgot about Giles.

***

"Where's Willow?" Anya asked as soon as Buffy and Dawn walked in.

Anya had called them all to the Magic Box. Buffy had just wanted to stay in bed, but Anya had said it was urgent.

"She went out with Amy," Buffy said.

"Now?" Anya asked.

Dawn sank down in one of the seats around the circular table. Xander was already seated, staring at some spot beyond the table. Buffy had only seen that shell-shocked look on Xander a few times before.

She shrugged. "I really don't know. What's the meeting for?"

"You all haven't been watching the news," Anya said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"No," Dawn said in a monotone. Buffy knew that Dawn had been crying since she'd heard about Giles yesterday. "Not since last night."

"We don't want to hear any more about it, really," Buffy tried to explain. Having the news blaring all about the crash was like somebody repeatedly driving a hatchet through her gut. She couldn't take it.

"Well, you should. It wasn't an accident," Anya said, fidgeting with her sleeves. "They released a description of the terrorist woman who brought the plane down. She was white. And blonde. And very stylish."

"Huh?"

"Glory. She told the people on their cellphones to tell people that her name was 'Glory'." Anya said.

The bitch from hell that terrorized her sister, tortured her friends, and caused her death. Shallow, insane, angry, horrible, strong, invincible, unstoppable _Glory_.

Buffy forgot how to breath for a few seconds. It wasn't possible. She'd defeated Glory. She'd -

Buffy's eyes met Dawn's, her sister looking more afraid than she'd ever looked.

\- she'd left Ben alive below the tower. He'd been alive when she had died.

She'd left Glory alive.

The shop phone started to ring, but not even Anya moved to answer it. It stopped after several rings.

Buffy shook her head, "They must have been mistaken." She looked to Xander, who just looked down, unable to meet her gaze.

"It was a lot of witnesses, Buffy. I really don't think so," Anya said. "Obviously, Glory's going to try to kill us all."

She couldn't do this again.

"We need to get the gang together," Xander spoke up, his voice sounding very mechanical. "Set up a base somewhere. Get Willow to put up magical protections while we figure out what to do."

It had taken everything she had to defeat Glory the first time. How could she possibly do this again?

"For now," Anya said. Obviously, she and Xander had planned ahead of time as to what to say. "We should stay at your house. It has the most weapons. Weapons are good."

She should be in heaven. She shouldn't have to deal with this. Hadn't she earned her rest? Her peace? How could she fight Glory when she wanted nothing more than to go back to heaven?

"Buffy?" Dawn's voice snapped her out of her racing thoughts.

Buffy looked up, realizing that everybody was waiting on her. She was the leader. Right. She'd been the leader before.

"You guys take Dawn back to your place," she said, trying to find her leader-voice. "Grab your stuff and go back to my house. I'll meet you there."

Xander stood up. "Shouldn't you come with us?"

"No," Buffy said. "I'm gonna gather up some supplies here to take with us for now. I'll be fine."

Xander and Dawn looked skeptical, but they left with Anya anyway. Buffy sat down, pressing her head into her hands. This just could not be happening.

***

He'd been waiting a damned long time. Nobody had answered when he'd tried to call earlier in the evening, and the rest of her little friends had wandered off over an hour ago. He was about to just go in after her, but Spike didn't want to destroy anything in the shop. Anya would be mad as hell at him if he did.

And he did want to fight her. Today had been a day of discovery. Finding out that his chip was working just fine. It just wasn't working on _her_. Oh, how he had saved up some punches for this moment. To finally be able to go against her like they'd used to so long ago. And to get some payback for all the beatings she'd given him since he'd gotten chipped. The irritating bitch had been yanking him around the past several days. Acting like they were friends, then kissing him senseless, then acting like it was nothing. Last night, though, had taken the cake. Calling him a disgusting thing. Fuck that. He'd discovered today that there wasn't anything wrong with _him_. Not at all.

Buffy came out of the shop carrying a box of knick knacks. Spike paid it no mind. He stepped out from his place in the shadows a few buildings down.

"Slayer," he said by way of greeting.

Buffy gave him an exasperated look. She did seem to be at her wit's end. He'd noticed it last night. Course, then she'd started using him as a punching bag, and he decided he didn't give a bloody fuck. Besides, a good fight should liven her right up.

 

"Thought you should know," he continued, moving in closer to her. "Things might be a little different now. You oughta be careful."

"Enough!" Buffy said. "Enough, move."

"Or what?"

She looked sad. Then she looked pissed. Then she dropped the box and punched him across the jaw. Spike took the punch, remaining standing. She kept getting to the violence faster and faster. She thought he'd just take it without complaint? Without even fighting back? Well, not anymore.

He turned back to her and threw his own punch.

It knocked Buffy back a few steps.

"Oh, the pain, the pain…is gone." Spike stalked closer to her.

When Buffy looked up, he could see the look of fear in her eyes. Fear and something else he couldn't put a finger on.

"Guess what I just found out," Spike continued. "Looks like I'm not as toothless as you thought, sweetheart."

"How?" Her voice was shaky.

"Don't you get it? Don't you see?" He smiled, looking forward to throwing this back at her. "You came back wrong."

He'd been expecting her to deny it. He'd been expecting her to punch him again. He'd been expecting her to be a complete bitch to him like she'd been ever since that bloody song demon had blown into town.

He hadn't expected her to gasp, "Oh, god," as her knees gave way. She held her hand out to grip the brick building beside her as she slid to the ground, body shuddering from enormous sobs.

Not what he'd expected at all.

"Slayer," he said.

Bloody bitch. Of course she'd steal his thunder. He tried to hold onto his anger, but it was hard when the object of his rage was curled up crying at his feet.

He crouched down to see her face-to-face. "Buffy, you're supposed to hit me."

She shook her head, face already red and puffy from the tears that kept falling.

Spike could tell that this wasn't about him right now. Something was going on that he was missing. Hell, something had been going on last night. Course, nobody ever kept him in the bloody loop, so he didn't know what it was.

"Hey, pet. What's the tears for? I imagined you'd stake me or something over this, not fall down crying."

She was crying too hard to answer him right now. Her entire body was still shaking. Despite every instinct he had telling him to hold her, he kept his hands off. He wasn't sure where he stood with Buffy right now. Hadn't known since she'd come back.

It was then that Spike felt the intense heat of a fire suddenly jump up. He yelped, standing up quickly and looking in the direction of the flames. Well, fuck. The Magic Box was roaring like an oven.

How the hell had that happened? He'd heard of spontaneous human combustion, but buildings just didn't break out into huge fires like that. The entire place was charring up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Buffy struggle to her feet, holding the wall for support. They were far enough away from the fire to be safe, but Spike was feeling a little singed from the heat.

Buffy grabbed the arm of his coat. "We have to go," she said, crying apparently over, though she was still sucking in huge breaths in an effort to stop the tears.

Spike looked at her before looking back at the fire. "Think we should call someone. Fire department or -"

"They'll come," Buffy was already gathering up the box. "We have to get back to my house. _Now_."

"Why?"

"Glory's back," Buffy said, her voice betraying the tears she was holding back now. "She killed Giles, and now she's coming for us."

_TBC..._


	3. Oversight

"You didn't try to put out the fire?" Anya asked.

Spike rolled his eyes, pacing across to the far end of the room. They had safely made it to Buffy's house and met with Xander, Anya, and Dawn. Spike was still a little fuzzy on the details of all this. The Slayer hadn't been very forthcoming once The Magic Box had gone up in flames.

"We had to get to safety," Buffy said. "Where's Dawn?"

"Upstairs," Xander said. "She's kinda…not taking this all very well."

"Oh," Buffy crossed her arms.

Spike suspected that the Little Bit wasn't the only one who wasn't taking this all very well. Giles being dead somewhat explained Buffy's behavior these past couple days. Though he was still not sure where he stood with her.

"Are we safe here?" Spike asked. "Cause we've apparently got a brassed off hellgod after us."

"I did a protection spell," Anya explained. "It probably won't do much, but it should hold her off for now until Willow gets back to do something stronger." She paused. "Okay, my spell wouldn't help us at all if Glory attacked. We'd all die."

"Wait, where is Willow?" Xander asked. "It's almost morning. Shouldn't she be home?"

Buffy shrugged, "I don't know. She was with Amy."

"And you aren't worried that Glory will go after, oh, I don't know, the one person that isn't with the group?"

"He's right," Anya said. "She'll pick off the strays. Take us out one by one." She rocked back and forth on her heels. "It'll be very unpleasant."

Strength in bloody numbers. Hadn't they already done this dance? Spike allowed his gaze to settle on Buffy. This shouldn't have to be her responsibility again. If the damned Scoobies had left her to her heaven, she wouldn't have to be dealing with this. But, no, they had to have their fucking hero back to fight for them again. Selfish pricks.

Leaving the bunch to their panic, Spike went upstairs. He hadn't seen Dawn much since Buffy had come back. Probably wouldn't do to leave her alone right now. Not after the way Glory had went after her before.

Her door was closed, and Spike had to fight the urge to just walk in. Manners were something Dawn had been trying to drill into him over the summer. He knocked on the door, calling her name. She didn't answer. When he cracked the door to check on her, he saw she was sleeping.

He grinned as he shut the door, leaning against the wall in the corridor. She hears that a hellgod is loose and out to kill people, and the bit just goes to sleep. Suppose it's better than running around like headless roaches like the ones downstairs are doing.

Spike fingered his cigarettes, wondering if Buffy would mind him lighting up inside the house. They hadn't killed Glory the last time. They hadn't been able to. He knew and they knew that there was only one way to kill Glory. They had to kill Ben.

Not that any of the wankers below him would have the stones to do it.

***

Willow had woken up in the alley. Which was sorta disorienting because she had passed out in Rack's place. But his place had moved when she woke up, and she hadn't gone with it.

It had taken her a while to get her bearings and calm the trembling of her body. She still felt a buzz from the…whatever she had been doing last night. She didn't know what it had been. It had been powerful, though.

It was not yet morning, so nobody was around to see when she stopped outside a shop to check out her appearance in the reflection in the window. Pallid complexion. Ratty, tousled hair. Black eyes.

Black eyes.

Willow braced herself against the shop window, squeezing her eyes shut and panting, trying to get her eyes back to normal. She somehow managed to touch the magic in her and get it to recede. She knew that the magic in her had grown last night, but she still had control over it.

When she opened her eyes, they were somewhat back to normal, though her pupils were unusually large. She hoped nobody would notice. Actually, she hoped everybody would still be asleep when she got home. She didn't want to chance walking in looking like that.

Feeling slightly more confident, Willow continued home. She was surprised to see Xander's car in the driveway. Maybe there'd been an emergency. Maybe Dawn had hurt herself. Maybe Buffy had -

Buffy! Buffy probably did something to herself because of Giles!

Panicked, Willow ran into the house, rushing into the living room. "Xander, is Buffy -"

Xander, Buffy, and Anya look at her with varying degrees of relief and apathy.

"Oh, so Buffy is okay," Willow smiled. Then she thought again. "Dawn! Is Dawn alright?"

Xander came forward, putting an arm out. "Dawn's fine. We were about to go out looking for you."

"_He_ was about to go out," Anya clarified. "Buffy and I agreed that it would be suicide."

Willow looked past Xander to Buffy, who was sitting down on the sofa, obviously distracted by something.

"Suicide?" Willow asked. "Suicide how?"

"Glory's back," Anya spoke up before Xander could even open his mouth. "She killed Giles. And we're pretty sure she's going to try to pick us off one at a time. We thought you'd be next."

Willow's eyes filled with tears as the room spun. This had to be some after-effect of the magic. Anya couldn't be telling her that Glory was back.

She shook her head. "How do you know? I mean, _Glory_. She's just…she can't!"

"Will, we know," Xander said. "She burnt down the shop earlier tonight. We need you to do a spell to protect the house. Everybody's here."

"Everybody?"

"Yes," Anya said. "Us four, and Dawn and Spike are upstairs."

That wasn't everybody.

"What about Tara?" Willow asked.

She'd never heard such deafening silence.

Without much of any thought or plan in her head, Willow turned and ran back out the door.

***

"Willow, wait!"

Xander's call spurred Spike to head back down the stairs. Harris had one foot out the door, and his girlfriend was grabbing his arm.

"No!" Anya yelled. "Glory will kill you. Stay here. With Buffy. It's safer."

"What happened?" Spike asked.

"Willow went to get Tara. Glory might have gone after her," Xander explained.

Spike nodded, glancing over at Buffy who was still sitting, watching the events with an apathetic eye. The Slayer wouldn't be helping. Having him and Harris as back-up wouldn't make much of a difference in a fight with the hellgod. "Red can handle her own," he said. Willow could probably handle herself even moreso now than she could before. He didn't say that, though. "'Sides, Glory might well be lying low for now. Hardly seems likely she'd know where Tara is. You forgot about her?"

Xander's mouth opened in protest but no words came out. He looked to Anya and Buffy but saw that there would be no support from them. Finally, he said, "Yeah. We forgot about Tara. In case you haven't noticed, there's been a lot going on. I didn't see you mention her."

Spike shrugged. "Just along for the ride, mate."

Anya turned her boyfriend away from the door and shoved him back into the living room. "Sit down," she said.

"Willow," Xander turned.

"She'll be fine," Anya smiled. "And if she's not, better just her dead than the both of you."

***

Willow had done this before. Months before, running to save Tara from Glory. She'd been too late then, and Tara had lost her mind. She couldn't be too late now. Tara would lose much more this time. There was no question in her mind that Tara might not be in danger.

There was a blind panic inside her spurring her to keep running, even though she was exhausted from the night before. Her legs were numb from the effort, and the trendy sandals she was wearing weren't working well for her in her mad dash.

The sun was coming up, and she had to start dodging people on the sidewalk on the way to the university dorms. Tara had moved back in after leaving her. Willow thanked the Goddess that Tara had thought to leave her new address, just in case.

Once she finally reached the dorm hall, Willow fought through a throng of students getting ready for the day's classes. Every step she took was blocked by somebody with their toiletry bag or with a stack of books. Willow gritted her teeth in frustration, wishing everyone would get out of her way.

As if on command, the hallway cleared before her as the students were pushed to the wall. Cries of confused protest filled the corridor, but Willow didn't pay any attention to it. They were in her way.

Her path clear, Willow was able to move much faster. She reached Tara's door quickly and didn't bother knocking. As Willow raised her hand, the door flew open, and she ran inside.

Tara looked up sharply at Willow's entrance, but Willow's eyes were immediately drawn to the other woman in the room.

The air was thick with power already, and it practically sparked lightning once Willow entered. There were cracks along the walls from some attacks used before she'd gotten there. Tara must have already been putting up a fight. Still, Glory stood in the center of the room, completely unscathed, while Tara was backed into a corner. Blood red lips curved into a wide smile as Glory saw Willow.

"Hey! It's like a reunion!" Glory said.

"Will?" Tara said, backing away from the hellgod. Willow got between her and Glory, desperate to protect Tara.

"Well, look at you!" Glory exclaimed, sizing up Willow. "You've gotten a little stronger, now haven't you? But you know," she started walking leisurely towards Willow. "You also look a little tired. Long night?"

Willow's legs were shaking from the pure exertion of her long run and the magic she'd used in getting to Tara. She bit her lip. She hadn't even realized she'd been using magic to get those students out of her way. It had just happened. And now, after everything, she felt drained.

Glory rolled her eyes at Willow's hesitation. "Yeah, yeah. You think about that for a bit."

Willow was suddenly struck across the head by what was easily the hardest punch she'd ever taken. Not that she'd often taken punches, and now she knew why. The force sent Willow careening back into the wall, away from Tara, her head snapping back on impact.

She wasn't out, though she couldn't move for a few moments. Blood filled her mouth from a tooth that had gotten knocked loose. She could hear Tara trying to get a spell out, but she knew that none of Tara's white magic would make a dent on Glory.

Glory laughed at Tara's effort, and something sparked inside of Willow. It felt like when Rack had touched her and had stirred her magic. Her power was growing inside her. And right now, she didn't see any reason to force it down. Instead, she let it grow and took control of it as best she could in her exhausted state.

Willow opened her eyes and got to her feet as Glory was walking briskly towards Tara. Willow reached her hand out, and the air in the room charged, winds whipping around. Glory was thrown back, much like Willow had been, though Glory managed to go through the wall.

The hellgod was standing in no time, however, and she wasn't laughing now. In a blink, she was in front of Willow, hand around her throat, squeezing tightly.

"Fine!" Glory said, eyes wild. "I'll take care of you _first_, then."

Willow couldn't breathe, but she didn't need to right now. She grabbed the wrist that was holding her throat and allowed the magic to do its work, attacking her assailant.

It was the darkest magic she'd ever felt. She didn't know where it was coming from in her, and a part of it frightened her. But another part, a larger part, wanted more. She knew that this power was what she needed. She knew she could keep it under her will and make it work for her. Like she was doing right now.

There was a shriek, and Willow was released immediately, stumbling backwards as the lights went out in the dorm. The entire room began to shake from the force of the powers fighting. Dark magic versus the power of a hellgod.

The entire dorm was falling around them, and alarms sounded distantly through the chaos. Willow lost sight of where Glory had gone, but she didn't much care. Her nose was bleeding, and she knew she wouldn't be able to withstand another attack from the goddess.

As the ceiling came down, Willow rushed to Tara, who was staring wide-eyed at the fight. She grabbed Tara's hand, and then they were gone.

Teleportation used to be difficult for her. Not anymore.

As soon as they appeared in the alley, Willow came down from the fight. The magic that had been boiling inside her calmed almost instantaneously, and Willow was left holding onto the wall in disorientation. She fought to keep from collapsing as her strength seeped from her, wiping the blood from her nose and trying hard not to pass out.

"Willow," Tara's voice made her look up at her girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. Why did Tara have to look so beautiful? Even wearing pajamas and with bed head that had been through a battle, she was still the most gorgeous woman Willow had ever seen.

Willow turned, leaning back against the wall, trying for casual, though it was difficult when she was panting so hard. "Good timing, huh?"

Tara was staring around her in distress. "What are….your aura…it's so dark."

"Dark?" Willow pushed away from the wall, finding some last strength to keep standing. Tara couldn't even admit, now, that Willow's magic was a good thing? "That 'dark' aura just saved your life! I took on Glory, Tara!"

Tara looked about to argue back, but then she nodded. "Thank you. I'd heard on the news. I was about to go to you guys when…"

"We're setting up base at Buffy's. It's best if we all stick together," Willow explained.

"Right," Tara glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the house. They weren't far. "This is…you and I are still…"

Of course. Tara could thank her for saving her life, but she couldn't apologize for leaving Willow. Even after Willow had risked everything for her.

Willow frowned. "I know," she said. Her voice was ice. "We're still broken up. After all, you obviously can't trust me anymore."

Pushing away from the wall, Willow began to limp down the street, trying hard to look like she wasn't about to collapse. She knew that she'd be sleeping for a long while after doing the protection spell.

***

Willow had returned with Tara to the relief of just about everyone, though both were bearing some scrapes and bruises from the fight. Willow looked as if she were ready to drop, but the importance of doing the protection spell kept her going. Buffy remained on the couch, watching the events around her. She was miles away from what was going on. They were discussing, planning, working to try to find a way out of this. But she couldn't join them.

Spike had told her that she'd come back wrong. That he could hit her was proof. She'd been so afraid that she was missing something ever since she'd come back. Like she'd left something in heaven when Willow had resurrected her. A part of herself that just wasn't there anymore.

Now she knew. She'd been right. She was wrong. She couldn't possibly fight Glory again. Not while she was like this.

"Do you need to go back to the shop to get supplies?" Anya asked Willow, who was shuffling through what Buffy had managed to save from The Magic Box. Willow's hands were shaking from exhaustion, and her pupils were still dilated from the dangerous magic she'd been doing earlier.

"Ahn," Xander interrupted. "I don't think we should go back there. Odds are, nothing survived, and Glory will pick us off if we try. Unless it's absolutely necessary -"

"But it is necessary!" Anya protested. "There might still be magic supplies. And money. Something might have survived the fire. And besides, it's my shop. And Giles put me in charge before he left." Anya looked around, her voice getting more uneven. "I failed Giles! I didn't take care of his store, and I failed him! And he won't ever come back to glare at me in disapproval or scold me. Why can't he come back to scold me?"

Buffy watched Xander pull Anya into a hug. Tara quietly left to go upstairs, and Willow turned her attention back to the magic supplies. Spike was nowhere in sight.

Buffy looked down at the carpeted floor. She felt like she was separate from everyone else. Stuck behind glass. Watching them but not involved.

She'd won last time only by dying. Spike was right. Things were different now. She'd come back wrong. Glory was going to win.

***

Spike tossed a couple pillows onto the cot in the basement. Xander and his girl had gotten the master bedroom. Buffy and Willow were bunking up, which left Tara and Dawn to room together. Spike had been relegated to the basement.

Course, he'd probably have to sneak out to his crypt sometime to grab some stuff. He hadn't expected to take refuge in the Summers' home like this.

The witch had done some spell on the house. No demon or hellgodly type would be able to find them unless one of the group told her where to look, even though Glory already knew where the house was. Pretty advanced magic, actually, though that didn't surprise Spike. Willow had been getting stronger and stronger with the powers. If it were up to him, he'd grab Buffy and Dawn and make a run out of town and leave the little Scoobies to fend for themselves.

But it wasn't up to him. Grabbing a smoke, Spike sat down on his cot, wondering if Buffy had a TV he could bring down here. Or he could just grab the one from his crypt.

He heard the door open as he inhaled, savoring the taste. He was half-expecting it to be Buffy coming down to see him, but he wasn't too surprised to see Dawn walking down the steps.

She didn't pause. She walked right over to the cot and sat down next to him. He looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"Can I try a smoke?" She asked.

He smiled. He knew there was a reason he liked her.

"Not sure your sis would 'preciate that," he said.

She shrugged. "I don't think Buffy really cares right now."

She had a point. He passed the lit cigarette to her and watched as she held it awkwardly between her fingers. She stared as if trying to figure out how to work it, and then she put it to her mouth, breathing in heavily.

Spike chuckled at the rasping cough she let out in response.

"Ugh!" Dawn choked. "What…why's it minty?"

"Is menthol, pet. Not your thing?" He held his hand out to get the cigarette back.

"No!" Dawn put the cigarette back to her mouth, making a slightly more successful attempt this time at inhaling. "I like it." She coughed.

Spike gave her a skeptical look but reached for his pack to grab another smoke for himself. He pretended not to notice when Dawn tried to adjust her cigarette to mimic how Spike was holding his.

"What brings you down here, Nibblet?" Spike asked.

Dawn shrugged, watching the ash form at the end of her cigarette. "Just don't wanna be up there."

"Scared?"

She shook her head a bit too quickly. "No. I mean…a little. Are you scared?"

She was putting on a brave act for him, alright. She may not be the Key anymore, but odds were that Glory bint would be more than ready to go after her again.

"Told you before," he said. "I promised to protect you, and I will." This time, he would. Not like last time.

"I don't think we can depend on Buffy this time," she said quietly.

Spike nodded. Buffy'd been doing better. Well, she'd been trying to be better. She'd seemed to have given up since this all happened. He couldn't rightly blame her. She'd already fought and died over this battle.

"I'll talk to her," he said.

"Yeah," Dawn grinned. "Cause she's _so_ receptive to you."

"Hey! I'll have you know, she let me get a full sentence out before shutting me down last time," he joked back.

Nibblet had a point, though. Buffy wasn't very open to him. But she had come to him when she'd first been brought back. That's something he could treasure, even as it frustrated him to be so close to her and, yet, still not be with her. However, no matter what little ditties he sang about her staying away from him, he couldn't _not_ be there for her. She needed someone right now.

Of course he'd be there. No matter how much she pushed him away.

Dawn dropped the cigarette that had somehow never made it back to her mouth to the floor and ground it out. She drew her feet up onto the cot and rested her head on Spike's shoulder.

"I'm not bugging you?" She asked.

"Course not," he said.

"Good."

Spike let her doze beside him for a few hours. He knew she'd need the rest for whatever was to come.

_TBC..._


	4. Negotiations

Glory watched the young man stumble around her apartment, feeling the walls and mumbling about legions or lesions or leeches. Well, at least _she_ felt better.

"Are you gonna show him out or what?" She asked, reclining on her chaise lounge and inspecting the pedicure supplies she had before her. Didn't she used to have servants to do this for her?

The cock-eyed older man wandered over. "Where should I put him?" Doc asked.

Glory started gathering the cotton balls and placing them between her toes. "Street?"

Doc nodded and walked over to lead the brain-sucked man out of her apartment. Her scabby minions were gone. Scattered to the four corners of the earth, and they weren't interested in working for a hellgod who was permanently exiled anymore. They'd been her loyal, toadying servants while she'd been searching for the Key. Now, she had to rely on this demon, Doc, who was the only one still willing to help her after her big defeat.

It was humiliating.

And frustrating.

What's more, it had been nearly a week since that redheaded bitch had brought the building down on her. She didn't remember the girl being that strong before. Things had changed while Benji had been sleeping. Now, they couldn't find any trace of the Slayer or her little friends. They'd gone underground. Glory had Doc scouring the demon and human world, trying to find any sign of them, but he wasn't very successful. He spent most of his time getting brains for her. She needed more of them than she used to.

What she wouldn't give for one of her scabby minions. Doc was useful, but he wasn't good with the compliments. He didn't grovel enough.

She was reaching for a nail file when her head began to ache.

"No! Ben!" She said through gritted teeth. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing him to stay inside, but she wasn't able to stop him. She screamed as she changed.

Ben's head was pounding. He looked down at the satin bathrobe he was wearing and the cotton balls between his toes. Well, this obviously wasn't the hospital anymore. He only vaguely remembered things. He remembered a plane. Then amazing power. More than Glory had had before. Then he remembered the frantic chaos of a dark magic attacking her. Then...then there was a lot of shopping.

He stood up, letting the cotton fall from between his toes and glancing around the luxurious apartment. He wondered how long Glory had been out. He wondered how much damage she'd managed to do. Looking down, again, at the feminine robe, he wondered if there were any clothes he could wear.

***

It was the same, tired argument they'd been having for days. Willow had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something wildly inappropriate to Anya. It was early in the morning, everybody was feeling the effects of being cooped up in the house for a week, and Anya was still yammering on about the "plan".

"I'm just saying," Anya continued, grabbing some waffles from the freezer. "You might as well paint a big red target on top of the house. She can kill us all in one strike!"

"That's what the protection spell is for. She doesn't know where we are," Willow reminded her, poking at the omelet that she wasn't hungry for.

They'd all been stuck in the house. Buffy and Xander had gone out to get food on a couple of occasions, but there was no leaving outside of that. No work. No school. No escape.

Xander was staying out of the argument, hiding behind the cereal box.

"See," Anya said. "This was supposed to be a temporary thing. To regroup and plan. Now, we're just all sitting around doing nothing and waiting for Glory to come kill us. It's nuts!"

"We're not doing nothing!" Willow protested. "We've been researching and trying to find where Glory is staying now. She can't find us. We can't find her. It's kinda a stalemate."

"I think Xander and I should go into hiding somewhere else. And you all can stay here and die," Anya said.

Xander put his head in his hands, groaning.

"Gee, Anya, please tell me more about how little you care about us," Willow said.

"I care about you! I just care about me and Xander more."

Willow pushed her plate back in frustration. "You just don't get how..._wrong_ you are, do you? Are you challenged?"

"At least I'm not mind-wiping people."

Willow slammed her fork down and stood up to confront Anya. "I was trying to help!"

"By erasing your girlfriend's memory? You're one to talk about caring."

Willow was sure that grinding her teeth wasn't healthy, but she had no alternative whenever Anya was around. The girl irritated the shit out of her.

***

Buffy and Tara stood outside the kitchen, glancing at each other. Inside, they could hear Willow and Anya fighting. This wasn't unusual. The two had been fighting pretty much constantly the past few days.

Buffy turned when she heard Dawn approach behind her.

"Again?" Dawn asked, motioning to the yelling.

Tara nodded. "It sounds like."

Buffy went back into the living room and sat down. Breakfast could wait. Tara and Dawn still looked uncertain as to whether they should go in or not.

The sounds of bickering were interrupted by a low-pitched and very British growl. Straining her ears, Buffy heard both Anya and Willow fall silent as the fridge opened and shut. They remained quiet as Spike emerged from the kitchen.

Obviously, he'd broken up their fight by his arrival.

Taking advantage of the rest, Tara and Dawn entered the kitchen to get some breakfast. Buffy stayed on the sofa. She wasn't hungry anyway.

She tried not to look up as Spike walked over to her, but it was hard not to react to him. Every nerve in her body screamed at her when he was around. Maybe it was because, like her, he'd also died once before. And, like her, he'd come back wrong. They were alike in the most disgusting of ways.

She'd manage to avoid him in this past week. It hadn't been difficult. She mainly stayed in her own room, looking through bills, trying to find where the money to continue feeding all these people would come from. Spike apparently felt uncomfortable approaching her while she was in her room.

He didn't feel any reservations about sitting next to her on the couch, though, mug of cold blood in hand. Spike had been paying for his own blood and cigarettes, for which she was grateful. She'd never say that to him, though.

"Those two," Spike shook his head while staring into his mug. "Think we should start voting people out?"

Buffy forced a smile, though she didn't want to be sitting next to him right now. But getting up to leave would be too awkward. Not to mention, it would take way too much energy.

"Haven't much seen you around lately," Spike said, trying to sound casual, though Buffy knew he was prying. She'd talked to him a lot when she'd first come back. Then she'd started kissing him. Why couldn't she keep kissing him now? Why go back to talking?

She shrugged. "It's not that big a house."

"Something bothering you?"

Her eyes wandered to the kitchen doorway. She could hear the voices of her friends. Hushed tones discussing Glory or magic or school or her. She was starting to regret having everybody stay here. It would probably be best for everybody to try to enjoy whatever time they had left before Glory...

"We're not gonna make it this time," she said, confessing what she'd been trying to hide from everyone. She glanced up at Spike who was watching her carefully.

"You don't think so?"

"I know so."

"How?"

Willow rushed out of the kitchen, looking upset. Without looking at Buffy and Spike, she stomped upstairs and slammed her bedroom door. Something must have been said to cause her to storm out.

"Because," Buffy said. "I can't save everyone this time."

Spike squinted, tilting his head. Buffy couldn't stand that look. He was looking right through her.

They could go away. She and Spike. They could go be wrong and disgusting together and leave everybody behind. It was so tempting. Especially now, when she could just reach out and touch him. Sure, Glory would find them eventually. But wouldn't it be worth it?

"You're stronger than you think, pet," Spike said. "I'll bet, when push comes to shove, you find that out. Slayer I know wouldn't sit by and watch some hellbitch slaughter her friends."

Buffy shrugged, looking anywhere but Spike. She couldn't expect him to understand how wrong she was. He was like her, after all, and he _enjoyed_ it. He couldn't possibly understand.

She was saved from answering by the doorbell ringing. Immediately, the voices in the kitchen stopped, and Willow appeared at the top of the stairs.

"It's okay!" Willow called out as she went to the door. "It's gotta be a human. The spell won't let a demon through."

Dawn came out to see who it was as Willow opened the door.

A short, middle-aged woman was waiting with a clipboard in hand.

"Hello, my name is Mrs. Kroger from Social Services. Are you Buffy?" She asked Willow.

Willow looked from Mrs. Kroger to Buffy and shook her head. "No! No, Buffy's right over there."

Buffy stood up. Social Services? She didn't know why they would be here. Willow rushed to the kitchen, presumably to get everyone to quiet down, while Spike stood awkwardly by. Buffy wished he would leave. Whatever Social Services was here for, Spike would definitely not make a good impression.

"Hi, Ms. Summers," the woman held out her hand. "I'm Doris Kroger. We had an appointment."

Buffy shook her hand, trying frantically to remember this. Appointment? Shit. Was the laundry done? Was the room clean? Did they have a lot of food? Oh! Was Dawn clean?

"Uh...yeah, I'd forgot," she said, giving her best fake smile. "It's been kinda crazy around here."

"I gather," Mrs. Kroger looked at Dawn, who was leaning against the wall. "You must be Dawn."

Dawn nodded before waving. "Yeah, hi."

Mrs. Kroger turned back to Buffy, inspecting her clipboard. "I have here that you've been calling Dawn in sick the past week at school. Is she doing better?"

Dawn's eyes widened, and she coughed a couple times before going upstairs.

"She's...recovering. But, you know, I think we're gonna be homeschooling her," Buffy said.

"Oh? Have you turned in a Private School Affidavit to the California Department of Education?" Mrs. Kroger looked up in interest.

"Uh...not yet," Buffy said. "But we're definitely looking into it."

Mrs. Kroger scribbled some notes on her file. Buffy glanced behind her. Spike was standing by the couch, watching warily, while Willow had emerged from the kitchen and was fidgeting in the other corner.

"You said 'we'. Is this your boyfriend?" Mrs. Kroger nodded at Spike, who immediately smiled.

"No!" Buffy quickly corrected, jumping between Mrs. Kroger and Spike. "Definitely not. He's just…he shouldn't even be here." She said, turning to look at Spike and gave him his nonverbal cue to leave the room.

He rolled his eyes but complied, brushing past the two women and heading to the kitchen.

"By 'we'," Buffy said. "I just meant me and Dawn. The two of us. Together. We were making that decision to homeschool her."

If Social Services decided that Buffy wasn't taking care of Dawn properly, they'd take her away. And then Glory would...

Isn't that what Buffy had wanted though? To just get it over with? Why was she trying so hard, then, to impress Mrs. Kroger?

Amidst Buffy's babbling, Mrs. Kroger had started looking around the living room. Willow frowned when Mrs. Kroger stopped at the box of magic supplies that Buffy had taken from The Magic Box a week earlier.

"That stuff is kinda -" Willow reached a hand out to try to distract Mrs. Kroger, but the woman had already pulled out some of the dusty old books on magic, demons, and vampires. "It's leftovers from Halloween. It's going in the attic!"

"And you are?" Mrs. Kroger asked.

"Willow. I'm a friend of the family's."

"You live here?"

"Well, yes. But not like that. Just to help out Buffy and Dawn since their mother passed away," Willow explained.

Willow's explanation seemed to be satisfying Mrs. Kroger. That is, until the woman started wandering into the kitchen. Both she and Willow followed nervously.

Xander, Anya, and Tara had obviously been trying to clean everything up. But their mere presence, all dressed in pajamas, was enough to set off obvious alarm bells for Mrs. Kroger, who turned back to Buffy.

"Do all these people help you out, too?" Mrs. Kroger asked.

"I know this looks weird," Buffy said. "But they all have a good reason for being here."

"I'm sure they do, but you'll forgive me, Ms. Summers, if I'm not impressed that you've been keeping Dawn from school for a week when she's obviously not ill, and you appear to have some sort of commune forming in your house. I seriously question if this is a safe environment for Dawn."

"It is!" Buffy said. _When push comes to shove_...isn't that what Spike had said? "This is very safe. You have no idea how safe this environment is -"

She was cut off by a knock on the door. Mrs. Kroger raised an eyebrow and followed Buffy to the foyer.

Despite Willow's earlier assurances that the guest had to be human, Buffy was still apprehensive when she opened the door. It was only the presence of Mrs. Kroger behind her that kept her from slamming the door when she saw who it was, though.

Ben was leaning against the doorjamb, hand pressed to a bleeding wound in his side. His face was bruised, and he was obviously in need of some help.

He also was likely to turn into Glory at any second.

"I wanna talk," he said. She heard Mrs. Kroger gasp.

"Is he okay?" Mrs. Kroger asked. "Should I call 911?"

"No!" Buffy said. "He just - " If she turned him out, Mrs. Kroger would likely take Dawn from her on the spot. What type of household turns away a bleeding, injured man? She had no choice in the matter. "He's an...acquaintance. He just got in a fight. We'll take care of him."

She ushered Ben inside, where Willow took hold of him and steered him to the sofa. Xander was already moving to the weapons chest, though he wasn't grabbing anything from it, yet. Mrs. Kroger was still there.

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Kroger watched as Tara walked across to look at Ben's wound. "It looks serious." She leaned closer to Buffy. "Is he involved in a gang?"

"It's not serious, really," Buffy tried to sound as reassuring as possible. "We got it."

Mrs. Kroger nodded, writing some more on her clipboard. "Well, I think I've seen enough. I'll go and make my report now."

As Mrs. Kroger turned to leave, Buffy grabbed her arm to stop her. "No, this...I know this all looks kinda strange, Mrs. Kroger, but it's really not bad."

"Ms. Summers, my job is to think about what's in Dawn's best interests. You're free to do whatever you like with whoever you like and...however many people you like, but my only concern is if it's the right home for Dawn to be growing up in."

"It's not like that - "

"Good day, Mrs. Summers." Mrs. Kroger walked out the door. Buffy fought every urge she had to run after her.

So Spike was right again. Buffy still cared. She only wished she didn't.

***

As soon as Buffy turned away, Willow ran out the door and down the sidewalk to catch Mrs. Kroger before she made it to her car. The protection spell did extend out to the yard, after all, though they'd been trying to stay inside anyway.

"Mrs. Kroger!" She called.

"Yes, er..." Mrs. Kroger stopped when called.

"Willow," she said. "Listen, things are kinda crazy this morning -"

"I already discussed it with Ms. Summers," Mrs. Kroger said. "Now, excuse me. I have a lot of cases to work."

"Wait!" Willow grabbed the other woman's elbow. She had to do something. If Mrs. Kroger gave a bad report, they'd take Dawn away. They couldn't afford that. Especially now. Willow licked her lips, prepared to do whatever necessary to keep the group safe.

Without warning, she put her hand to Mrs. Kroger's head and allowed her magic to tweak Mrs. Kroger's mind. The smallest bit. Just enough to get a good report and make sure Social Services wouldn't come after Buffy and Dawn anymore.

Mrs. Kroger shrieked, and there was a short burst of light from where Willow's palm made contact with her head. It was over in an instant. Willow stepped back and smiled as Mrs. Kroger rubbed her eyes, moaning slightly.

"I'm sorry," the older woman said softly. "What were we talking about?"

"You were just telling me about what you were going to report," Willow prompted.

Mrs. Kroger crinkled her brow. "Yes," she muttered. "Yes, I was. Oh, obviously, Ms. Summers has a good handle on things. I don't foresee any problems." She smiled in confidence. "The carnival is closing in a few weeks anyway," Mrs. Kroger added.

Willow grimaced. It looked like she'd mixed something up a bit too much. Hopefully, it was just an immediate after-effect of the spell and not something permanent. Willow ignored it and said good-bye, watching as Mrs. Kroger drove away.

She looked back at the front door, sighing in anticipation. She knew what they were going to have to deal with now.

Steeling herself, she walked back inside the house. Tara was crouched down beside the couch, tending to Ben's wound. Xander, Anya, and Spike stood over her, various weapons at ready. Buffy and Dawn were both hanging back.

"Why's he here?" Willow asked, taking charge once she returned. All eyes were on her.

"He said he wants a deal," Anya said. "I say we kill him."

"No!" Ben said quickly. "I have information. Just, let me tell you."

Spike spoke up, "And in the meantime, he poofs into Glory. We can't afford to wait."

"Glory won't come back out for another day or so. And if I start to change, I'll leave. Promise," Ben said.

"Cause we know how good your promises are," Dawn said, arms crossed. Willow noticed Buffy put her arm around Dawn's shoulders, which was unusual nowadays. She ignored it, though.

Willow moved closer to Ben. "How'd you get hurt?" she asked.

Ben looked relieved to be getting something of a reprieve. "I changed in her apartment. She has a new guy working for her. He calls himself 'Doc'." Spike and Dawn both tensed at this. "He told me some stuff. I wanted to get out to talk to you guys, but he wouldn't let me go. When I tried to leave, he attacked me. I managed to knock him out and then come here."

"What did he tell you?" Willow asked.

Tara had finished bandaging Ben's wound and stood, walking away to stand with Dawn. Willow took her place standing at Ben's side.

"He told me about what Glory's been doing," Ben said. "She's stronger now."

"Yeah, we know," Xander said.

"How's she stronger?" Willow asked.

"The energy from the portal," Ben continued. "When the Key opened the portal, she received a boatload of mystical energy from her home dimension before the portal was closed. She's got a lot more power now. Uses up a lot more brains to keep it going, too."

That made sense. Willow would have to research that to see if the effect was temporary or not.

"And now," Willow said. "What deal could you possibly want from us?"

Ben looked around at the hostile faces surrounding him. Willow fought to keep from grinning at his discomfort. She was fairly certain she could teleport him away if he started changing into Glory. Unless Glory's magics interfered with her.

"I want sanctuary," Ben said.

Xander laughed. "Sanctuary? You share a body with Glory! We'd have to be idiots to give you sanctuary!"

"Xander, hush," Willow said. "What else?"

"Listen," Ben said. "Doc told me that you've gotten stronger, too. I think, if you tried, you could separate me and Glory. Exorcise her from me. Then I wouldn't have to worry about her anymore."

"Except when she's coming to kill you," Xander said.

"Xander's right," Willow said. "If I separate you two, she'll just turn around and kill you."

"But at least I'll be my own man before she does so," Ben replied.

"No!" Anya said. "Don't be stupid. We need you and Glory to stay together. If Glory's separate, we don't have _any_ way to kill her! But since she shares a body with you..." Anya looked around, aware that she had everybody's attention. "This should be obvious, people. He's right here! If we kill him, we solve our problem, and we can all go home!"

Ben sank further into the couch at that.

"Ahn," Xander stepped between Anya and Ben, weaponless hand reaching out to stroke her arm. "I get what you're saying. But...killing an innocent guy? Just like that? We can't -"

"Xander's right," Tara said. "We're better than that."

"Oh," Anya said. "Well, I'm sure you'll be happy you stuck to your principles while Glory's murdering you."

"Ahn -" Xander said.

"No, Xander!" Anya batted Xander's hand away from her. "This is ridiculous. We're cooped up here, miserable, afraid for our lives, and the way out is lying on that couch!"

"Demon Girl's got a point," Spike said, eyeing Ben in a predator-like fashion. "Easiest way out of this."

Tara strode forward to join Xander in defending Ben. "Guys, this would be wrong," she said.

"You tell that to Giles," Anya replied.

"Ben didn't kill Giles. Glory did," Tara said.

"And the only way to kill Glory is to kill Ben! It's simple, really."

"You know," Xander spoke up. "I do think it's funny that we have the two demons, or ex-demons, wanting to kill the human. I expected as much from Spike, but Anya..."

"Alexander Harris!" Anya said. "This has nothing to do with vengeance. It's about doing what's practical and smart."

"She's right," Willow said. The room quieted when she spoke up. She glanced at Buffy and Dawn, both of whom were still sitting out on the discussion on the other side of the room. Willow cleared her throat. "I know that killing humans is wrong," she continued. "But Ben's more than just human. He's worked with Glory before, and he's the best way to defeat her now. Anya and Spike are right. It's just common sense."

Xander looked like he was floundering. He shut his mouth and looked away. Willow couldn't even bring herself to look Tara in the eye.

Anya smiled, though. "Finally, a voice of reason." She pushed Xander aside and stood by Ben. "We'll make it end quickly for you."

Faster than she would have expected, Ben jolted up from his position on the sofa, knocking Willow back against the coffee table and grabbing for Anya.

Willow heard the crack of her head hitting the corner of the table, and then a wave of nauseating dizziness kept her down on the ground, too disoriented to even move or see through the blurred haze. A cacophony of voices flooded her head as if through a tunnel.

"Let go of me!"

"Nobody follows, you got it? I'll slit her throat if you do. Nobody follows us!"

"Buffy, help her!"

"Anya!"

Willow blinked blearily, eyes wet. It was some time later when she came back to herself. The dizziness passed, and she was left lying on the floor, head turned to one side while Dawn crouched over her, tending to a bleeding wound on the back of her head.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice sluggish as she turned to try to get Dawn in focus.

Dawn looked over her shoulder, and Willow could make out the fuzzy outline of Spike behind her.

"It's Anya," Dawn said. "Ben took her."

_TBC..._


	5. Casualties

Anya usually took great glee in saying "I told you so" to people. She was accustomed to being dismissed, overlooked, ignored, or generally disliked by those around her, and, as such, she was also accustomed to people disregarding what she had to say. Especially when she was being reasonable and they weren't. This was one of those cases.

Unfortunately, there was a knife to her throat and she was being dragged farther away from her friends every second. She didn't have any way of telling the others about how she had told them so before, and she was quickly becoming more and more panicked as to what would happen to her in the future.

They were in an alley, and Ben was looking out at the crowded street. Anya felt his grip on the knife relax, and she took advantage of it. She elbowed him in the stomach while she reached up with the other arm to knock the knife away. She didn't wait to hear the satisfying "Oof!" noise Ben made or to watch him fall against the wall. She started to run towards the street as soon as she was released.

She was running without shoes, though, and it was very uncomfortable and made her slower than she usually was. Ben's hand wrapped around her ankle, and she fell onto the pavement. The breath was knocked out of her, and her teeth ached from the impact. She was too stunned to do much more than try to scramble away as Ben franticly grabbed at her shoulders, forcing her to stay on the ground.

"Let go of me!" Anya yelled, hoping to attract some of the pedestrians on the street. As soon as her mouth was open, though, Ben slammed his hand over it and pushed down hard, pressing her back onto the pavement.

"Shut up!" He whispered loudly as he succeeded in pinning her to the ground. "I...just let me think!"

Anya watched him stare into the distance in thought. His palm was sweaty over her face, and it was an unpleasant feeling to have it rubbing across her mouth. Isn't this usually when Buffy swooped in to the rescue? She was definitely in need of some rescuing.

Ben looked down at her again, meeting her eyes. He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I tried to keep things from going like this."

Anya should have killed him as soon as she saw him. It was Xander's fault. He was always trying to make her act "properly". It wouldn't have been "appropriate" for Anya to chop his head off with an axe when he had first arrived at the house. Now look where she was.

To her relief, Ben removed his hand from her mouth. Before she could try to scream again, though, he'd raised his hand and punched her soundly in the head.

Anya blacked out.

***

Willow was still unsteady on her feet. It had been chaos when she'd woken up. Xander had been trying to run outside to somehow find Anya. Spike was the only one who could physically restrain him as Buffy was still hanging back, not getting involved.

After Tara's locator spell had fizzled for the third time, Willow wandered outside to get some fresh air. There were some stronger spells that she could try, but she would need some supplies from The Magic Box. Hopefully, the stock in the basement survived the fire.

Willow grabbed the mail while she was out, sorting through it. Bill, bill, collection notice, another collection notice, and another. Willow paused when she came across a letter from some law firm called Jones, Smith, and Associates. Buffy getting letters from a lawyer couldn't be good.

Glancing up to make sure nobody was coming outside, Willow opened the letter. If Buffy were getting sued for something, she could take care of it so Buffy wouldn't have to worry. Unfolding the letter, Willow's eyes widened as she saw what it was.

***

"We're just sitting around while Anya is out -" Xander's face was red. He had been yelling for a long while, after all.

"Xander, we'll find her," Tara tried to get him to calm down.

It wouldn't work. Buffy knew it wouldn't work. It shouldn't work. One of their own had been taken. Xander had every right to be upset and panicked and angry.

"Yeah, and how?" Xander said, turning to Buffy. "Why aren't you out there, doing your Slayer thing and trying to find her? You're just standing there!"

"I...don't know where to look," she said, though it sounded weak, even to her own mind.

Xander rolled his eyes, "I know you've been dealing with the whole 'Oh, I died' thing, but by now? You should be over it! Now's not the time to sulk and whine about heaven or bills or how horrible life is! You have to find Anya!"

Spike stepped forward, "Now, wait a minute -"

"I'm sorry, Xander!" Buffy interrupted. "I'm sorry that I'm not the hero you wanted me to be when you resurrected me! I'm sorry that I have massive debt that makes me wonder how I'm going to feed you - all of you - through tomorrow, much less through the next week. And I'm sorry that I just wish that you had _left_ me where I was instead of forcing me to fight for you again. But I just...I can't do all this." She was crying. When had she started crying? She wished she weren't.

Xander's mouth closed as the room fell silent around her.

"Uh, Buffy?" Willow said, coming in through the foyer. She placed a batch of bills on the table and held out an envelope to Buffy. "I think this might help."

Buffy took the letter, reading it with a growing sense of relief. Relief beyond anything she'd felt since she'd come back. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she choked down a sob as she reached for the stairway banister to steady herself.

"What is it?" Dawn asked.

Buffy closed her eyes as Willow talked. "A check. Giles...he left Buffy pretty much everything in his will. His executors just paid out."

Understatement. She knew Giles had to have money, but she had never known how much. And the subject of wills and inheritance had never come up. Not once. He'd given her everything. Just like a father would give everything to his daughter.

Cool fingers gently took the check from her, and she heard Spike's low whistle when he saw the amount.

"Well," he said. "That should help out. A lot."

She could do this. Giles' last gift to her would help her do this. With him, she could take care of the money stuff. The stuff that shouldn't matter, but did. And with that taken care of, she could then handle the other stuff. The Glory matter.

She could do this now.

When she opened her eyes, she felt a new determination to fight. It was a fire in her that she'd felt had been extinguished with her death.

"Okay," she said. "We need a plan, guys. To find Anya."

Everybody was quiet at the sudden shift back in topics. Buffy continued, "Why aren't the locator spells working?"

"Maybe just being near Ben disrupts them," Tara said. "These are pretty basic spells. If Glory's power affects people around Ben, then that could be the problem."

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "With some supplies from the shop, we could do something a lot stronger. It might work."

If anything had survived the fire. It was worth a shot. "Okay. Spike and I will take the sewers and go get supplies. We'll bring them back and try your spell." Buffy looked at Xander. "We'll find her."

"I should go with you," Willow said.

"No. The less of us outside, the better. I want you here. You're powerful enough to protect everybody if Glory attacks."

Willow shook her head. "But if I go out, I could use my magic to try to find Anya. It'll be faster than a locator spell."

"Will, no," Buffy said. "We can't chance it. We stick to my plan."

She saw the look of dissatisfaction on Willow's face. Buffy was getting back into her leader-shoes. Willow didn't like it. After a moment, though, she backed down.

"Fine. I'll write you up what we need for the spell," Willow turned to get a notepad and pen.

"You okay, pet?" Spike asked quietly as the impromptu meeting broke up. Buffy took the check back from him and slipped it in her back pocket.

"Yeah," she said. She felt better. Like a huge weight had been lifted from her. While under the weight, all she could focus on was the struggle of keeping it from crushing her. Now that it was gone, she could finally start to look around. She could finally start trying to find her way out of this fog. "It's not all okay now," she said. "But it's better."

Spike nodded, hand coming up as if he were planning on patting her shoulder or something. He lowered it after a second though, instead nodding again and smiling. "I'll go grab an axe for our journey."

As he walked away, Buffy watched him carefully. Things were changing. She was fairly certain that she didn't want to stop that change from happening.

***

Anya couldn't move when she woke up. She was tied to a chair, and her arms were bound behind her back with rope that rubbed at her wrists. She was in a large, well-furnished apartment. It was larger than Xander's apartment, but smaller than some of the ones she'd seen on TV. Her immediate reaction to waking up was to struggle out of her bonds, but she only succeeded in frustrating herself as the rope rubbed her skin raw.

"She's awake," Ben walked in from the neighboring room, followed by a short older man. Anya knew at a glance that the other man was a demon. Most likely he was the Doc Ben had talked about.

"You need to release me right now!" She said. "Because Buffy will kill you, and I won't talk. And these ropes hurt!"

Ben ignored her. "The protection spell that your friend did. It doesn't work if I tell Doc where to find you guys. We need you to tell him. That's the only way to break the spell."

"Yes," Anya said, glancing back and forth between the two men. They were going to torture her. She'd never been tortured before. She was afraid it would be a wholly unpleasant experience. "But I won't tell him," she said, trying to instill a confidence in her voice that she didn't feel. "They're my friends. It would be wrong."

Doc stepped forward, a knife in his hand. His smile was crooked, and so were his eyes. "It's in your best interests to tell me sooner rather than later. Glorificus will show mercy if you do."

The rope around her stomach constricted her breathing. She hadn't noticed before, but she noticed now as her breath came to her in short, quick bursts. He was going to cut her. She didn't want him to. She was supposed to be the torturer, not the torturee. Plus, she was very sensitive to pain.

This wasn't right. Why couldn't it be Spike being tortured? Spike could be all noble and silent for the group. Anya couldn't. When there was trouble, she ran. She'd tried to run, but Ben had stopped her.

Her eyes hadn't left Doc's knife, but she was distracted when Ben yelled, clutching the wall and putting his hand to his head.

"It's too soon!" He groaned.

Doc had stopped in his approach to watch the transformation as Ben changed into Glory. Standing up straight, the hellgod shook her head, looking around the room. She stopped when she saw Anya and smiled.

"Well, lookie here! Benji left a present for me!"

***

The basement of The Magic Box hadn't been spared from the fire, either. Buffy's foot sifted through dust and ash as she gazed about the burnt and toppled inventory shelves.

"Well," Spike said. "We might luck out."

She nodded, pulling out the list Willow had given her. Fortunately, there wasn't much on it. Henbane, leaves of cyadan, and ground Ornazi's horn...whatever that was.

While Anya had had a meticulous inventory system, the fire had all but ruined it. Buffy and Spike had to resort to searching the ground and pushing aside shelves to search for the ingredients.

"So, the Slayer back in action?" Spike asked while inspecting some broken jars for labels.

He asked it so nonchalantly that Buffy couldn't help but be distracted from her search. "Huh?"

"Giving orders, making plans, helping out," Spike glanced at her. "A bit like the old you."

She shook her head. "It's just what I have to do. Anya needs me." Eye of newt. Not what she was looking for. "It still doesn't feel right. _I_ don't feel right."

"I guess they'll have to live with what they can get, then. Ah, leaves of cyadan. Smelly things." Spike pocketed the orange foliage.

"They want a leader," Buffy said, more to herself than to Spike. She could be a leader again. For them. And hello, henbane.

"You're not gonna die for them again." Spike had stopped his search and was standing upright, staring directly at her. It was unnerving. It was the same look he'd given her when he'd told her about how he'd dreamt he'd saved her.

"Spike -"

"I mean it, Buffy. You did it once. You got a second shot, like it or not. And I know that you're putting on some brave front for them now, but inside you're still miserable and wishing you didn't have to do this. You still think Glory's gonna win."

She looked down. She did. Even if she saved Anya now. Even if she saved everybody else ten times over. Glory would still win. Buffy couldn't defeat her. Not while she was wrong.

Spike continued, "Glory can destroy the rest of this world, for all I care. But she's not gonna kill you again. I won't let her." There was a long pause as if Spike were considering whether to keep talking. Finally, he said. "I love you."

Buffy shook her head. He couldn't. He was wrong, like her. And she knew she couldn't love anybody. Not since she'd come back wrong. So she knew. She _knew_ that he couldn't love her, either. It hurt to hear him even say the words. There was something inherently disgusting about somebody saying they loved her.

She didn't say anything, though. She stepped to the side to get away from Spike, and her foot kicked a broken jar containing ground up Ornazi's horn. They were done here.

***

Anya's jaw was sore. Her wrists were bleeding. She had a cut on her forehead that was bleeding into her eyes, and she couldn't wipe the blood away. And there was a coppery taste in her mouth that Anya knew was even more blood, and she wanted to spit it out but spitting was gross, and she didn't want to do it in front of Glory.

Glory had just stepped back, accepting a towel from Doc to wipe her hands of Anya's blood.

"Honey, see," Glory was saying, though Anya's ears were ringing from the blows and it was hard to hear her. "It's pretty simple! Tell me where they are! Then you walk away, free and happy and intact. I _just_ need you to break that spell for me." Glory bent at the waist, making eye contact with Anya. "Please?"

Glory was going to kill her. Maybe this was a punishment for letting Glory destroy Giles' shop. Giles was doing this from beyond the grave as a form of vengeance. It was very fitting.

She could just talk. She would be alive, then, and would be able to go warn the others. That is, if Glory kept her word, which Anya doubted. But it was better than not talking which would give her no chance of survival.

But if she told Glory where they were, and Glory whisked off to go kill them all, then Anya would feel guilty and miserable for the rest of her short, mortal life. She couldn't bear that. Plus, she would lose Xander, who was really the only thing keeping her somewhat sane as a human.

Anya broke eye contact with Glory, looking down at the floor as she thought about Xander. He would be worried about her. He was probably panicking right now about her. What type of fiancée would she be if she let a hellgod run off and kill him? She had to be strong for Xander. Buffy would save her. Buffy always saved people. That's what Buffy did.

Anya wouldn't have to stand the pain for long.

Holding onto that, she looked back up at Glory, who was looking very hopeful. Anya spit blood and saliva at Glory's heel-clad feet, then raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Glory's eyes darkened, and she stormed away from Anya, grabbing the towel from Doc and wiping her feet. "You people are so frustrating!" She said, tossing the towel aside and walking briskly towards Anya again.

She crouched down in front of the chair. "Tell me where your friends are hiding," she said.

Anya didn't say anything. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she'd tell Glory what she wanted to hear. So keeping her mouth closed was for the best.

When it was clear Anya wasn't answering, Glory reached behind her and gripped her right index finger, bending it backwards until it snapped. Anya screamed as the pain radiated up her arm, pulsing as Glory continued to grip the broken digit.

"You really don't want to make this any harder for yourself, do you?" Glory asked.

Anya fought down the rising panic in her chest as she tried to calm herself down. Glory released her finger and stood, grabbing the knife from the table and walking back to Anya.

She crouched beside Anya again, glancing at Anya's bound hands. "That's a nice ring," she commented. "You're engaged?"

Anya nodded, thinking of Xander and the ring he'd given her so she could be his wife. Thinking of Xander made it easier to remember why she wasn't telling Glory where everybody was.

Her body jumped against her restraints as Glory grabbed her left ring finger, stretching it away from her body. Anya tried to brace herself for another broken finger and was caught by surprise when the blade of the knife fell hard against her finger at the joint where it met her palm.

Anya screamed as Glory grinned, slicing at the finger again. It was more difficult this time as the blood made her grip slippery. Anya felt the knife biting through skin, muscles, and bone as Glory put all of her godly strength behind it to use one last slash to cut it from her body.

Anya's scream died to a whimper, though her mouth stayed open as tears of pain took her body over, causing her to convulse against the ropes holding her down. Her hands were covered in her own, warm blood, and pain racked her body as she tried to wiggle her fingers.

Glory triumphantly held up Anya's own ring finger in front of her, ring still in place. She raised an eyebrow as Anya squeezed her eyes shut and looked away.

"What's wrong?" Glory asked. "I think it's a very pretty ring."

Opening her eyes the smallest bit, Anya watched Glory toss away her finger. It was eerie. Anya's body felt cold, and she was having trouble getting air into her lungs. Why wasn't she ending this again? Why didn't she talk? She was having trouble remembering as she could feel the blood flowing out of the wound where her finger used to be.

Glory turned back to her, raising the knife that was coated with her blood. Anya had never seen so much of her own blood. She didn't like it. It was making her sick to look at it.

Wasn't Buffy supposed to be here by now? Or Xander? Or even Willow? Anybody?

Glory gripped Anya's chin, forcing her to face her before lashing out and slashing Anya's cheek with the blade. "I'm sure you'll be a very pretty bride, too," Glory said.

More of her blood spilled from her.

***

It hadn't been a good day for Willow so far. She had a concussion that left her with a huge bump on the back of her head, she was having to do spells with Tara, which was very awkward, and Buffy had suddenly decided to wake up and start making decisions. She would almost consider Anya's capture to be a plus, but that meant that she now had to help search for Anya and deal with a hysterical Xander.

While she was happy to see that the check from Giles' estate had helped Buffy's mood, she didn't like the way Buffy was back to handling things. Willow had been doing fine while she was in charge. But, suddenly, everybody defers to Buffy just cause she's the Slayer. Never mind that Buffy would rather be _dead_.

Willow sighed after the latest spell she and Tara had tried blinked out. Nothing had been working. The rest of the group stood around them, making the room buzz with nervous energy. Willow wondered briefly if visiting Rack might help. With him to boost her powers, she could probably find Anya easily. Not to mention, she'd been missing the high she'd felt there.

Buffy had made it clear that she wanted Willow to stay housebound to protect the residents. It was ridiculous, but nobody wanted to argue with the Slayer.

"Why's it not working?" Buffy asked impatiently.

Tara shook her head, sweating slightly from all the spells they had been doing. Willow had to tear her eyes away from her ex-girlfriend.

"If Ben took Anya to Glory's place, she'd be hidden by the same protection spells that was keeping us from finding Glory," Willow said. "No conventional spell can bust through that."

"So I guess we're gonna do this the old-fashioned way," Buffy said. "Spike, grab a weapon. It's getting dark. We'll go out and search the town. Find places that might attract Glory."

"I should go with you," Xander said.

"The less people out and about, the better. We still don't know how Glory can find us. I'd rather not attract her attention."

No, Buffy would rather be out alone with her pet vampire, Spike. Willow wasn't blind to the strange attachment Buffy had formed with him since her resurrection.

But Buffy was calling the shots now, and Xander backed down. If Willow were being honest with herself, she would have admitted that Xander was in no state to be of any use. He felt this too emotionally. Dawn put a comforting arm around Xander's shoulders as Willow packed up her supplies. Buffy and Spike quietly left to find their missing friend.

***

Anya's body was shaking. She wanted to go to sleep, but Glory wouldn't let her. Her body had stopped making tears a while ago, and Anya had no energy left to do much more than pant as pain overwhelmed her.

She still had nine fingers. But she'd lost a toe, which Glory had considered "fair". Nine fingers. Nine toes.

Her pajamas had been slashed as Glory had made deep gouges all along her body, and she had a knife wound going clear through her palm. The sensitive underside of her feet had been subject to torture by hot curling iron. Her skin still cried at her in protest.

Across the room, Glory was accepting a glass of red wine from Doc.

Anya knew she wasn't brave enough for this. Withstanding torture was something heroes did. Not her. She was surprised she'd lasted this long, though she was losing her conviction as to why she wasn't talking.

Her friends might feel pain later. But their pain would be quick and relatively light, like Giles' had been. Hers had lasted for hours. Didn't she deserve a little relief?

Besides, they'd obviously abandoned her. Buffy still hadn't shown up, and she had never expected Willow to. Xander made her heart hurt every second he hadn't burst through the door to her rescue.

Xander. Xander who had disagreed with her before and made a snide remark about her past demonhood. Anya sniffed, though she regretted it as it pulled at the sliced flesh that was her stomach.

"So," Glory said casually, walking over with her wine in hand. She had Anya's blood all over her, but she didn't seem to mind it like Anya did. "You wanna talk now?"

Her blood dripped from her body. Was there more blood on the outside than on the inside? Another second passed with no rescue. Another moment passed as her body started to slip away from the damage it had taken. Her body was ready to give up. Her body was crying for her to give up. Couldn't she give up?

"Hey!" Glory grabbed Anya by the chin and forced her to look at her. "Answer the question. Do you wanna talk?"

Doc appeared by Glory's side as Anya's body found more tears to cry. She wasn't made to be a hero.

***

It was nearing midnight. They'd searched just about every high-class apartment building in Sunnydale. They'd even searched the hospital and Glory's old apartment, just in case. No luck. Buffy was beginning to wonder if Glory were hanging around outside of Sunnydale somewhere. That wouldn't make much sense, though.

On their way to the last possible stop, Buffy quickly ran to the ATM. If she deposited the check before midnight, she'd have the money tomorrow. Which meant that everybody could eat. She hated taking out time in searching for Anya for this, but the rest of life didn't stop just because some hellgod had captured a friend of hers.

Spike watched her back as she inserted her card and entered her PIN number. She couldn't help feeling a rush of elation at the fact that her money troubles, at least, were over. She finished out her transaction and put her card back in her pocket.

Spike was looking around and sniffing the air, looking like a dog on alert. She smiled. "Smell something, lassie?" She asked.

He shook his head, letting the jibe slide. Buffy felt a slight pressure on her ass, and then Spike's hand shot out to grab at...nothing behind her. Buffy turned around, but Spike wasn't holding onto anything. Well, she couldn't see anything. However, there was definitely something there making a pained yelling noise. Spike immediately released the whatever-it-was and yelled, himself, putting his hand to his head as his chip fired.

"What the hell?" Buffy asked.

She felt, again, something reaching for her back pocket. Okay, so some invisible demon wanted to steal her ATM card. No way. Whirling around, she punched at where she assumed a head would be. She missed entirely, sending her stumbling forward into a much shorter body than she'd expected.

Spike grabbed her by the elbow before she could topple over onto the invisible demon...thing...person? Grabbing it had set off Spike's chip so it had to be a person.

"It's the Slayer! Run!"

Buffy turned to see two figures quickly dash from behind a dark corner, one carrying what looked to be some type of gun. Buffy was roughly pushed back against Spike as the invisible man cried out, "Wait for me!"

She listened to the footsteps quickly disappearing. She'd recognized that voice. She was having trouble remembering where she'd heard it before, though.

"Nice con," Spike said, watching the distance where the three had disappeared. "Invisible up a buddy, watch while someone enters their PIN, swipe their card, and bang! You got some free cash."

"Yeah," Buffy said, checking to make sure her card was still safe. "Brilliant."

She stepped away from Spike, suddenly realizing how close to him she was. Personal space was of the good. Very much of the good.

"There's blood," Spike said, squinting into the distance.

"What? I didn't hurt any of them," Buffy said.

Spike shook his head and walked past her, wandering out to the center of what passed for downtown in Sunnydale. There was a small crowd of people in the middle of the street, and traffic was blocked on all sides. There were policeman trying to force the crowd back.

Spike had a way of getting the crowds to part for him, though, and Buffy followed in his wake, running into his back when he stopped abruptly.

"What is it?" Buffy asked, stepping around Spike to see what the fuss was about.

_She had entered the living room, ready to tease her mom about the flowers she'd gotten._

She could barely recognize the body in the dim streetlight. Tendrils of blood flowed over the concrete street, radiating out from Anya's body.

_Her mom's body lying on the couch, one leg dangling off of it. _

She'd been arranged in haphazard fashion, limbs at awkward angles, and pajamas soaked in red. The tattered pajamas barely covered the brutally tortured flesh beneath. A bright red gash across her throat must have been what had killed her.

_No breath. No life. Her chest was still; her skin cold. Buffy wanted to make her warm. She wanted to make her alive again._

Her eyes were gazing without seeing at the sky, her face one of resignation.

_The whole time, her mom's eyes were open, glassy, staring at the oblivion of death. The eyes held her final passing thoughts as she died._

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly and dragging her away from Anya's body. She resisted.

"No!" She tasted her own tears as her mouth opened. "It's Anya. We can't just leave her!"

Spike turned her around to face him, holding her up by her shoulders. "Glory killed her, pet. Glory killed her, and we don't know if Anya talked or not."

Buffy shook her head, looking back in the direction of the crowd and the body of her dead friend. Her legs were shaking, and she felt sick. "We can't just...leave her..."

"Buffy," Spike brushed her hair back gently, glancing back at the scene. "If she told Glory where we're hiding and broke the protection spell, you know Glory would go right for the others."

Anya. They'd had an entire day to save Anya, and she hadn't been able to. She'd failed. Again, she'd failed.

Spike shook her slightly. "Buffy, Glory could right now be on her way to kill everybody at your house. Including Dawn!"

Buffy looked up at Spike. He was right.

Trying hard to push away the images of Anya's broken body, she turned in the direction of her house and ran. She could hear Spike's heavy bootsteps thudding behind her. She'd failed Anya. She couldn't fail the others.

She couldn't help but be afraid of what she might find when she got home.

_TBC..._


	6. Threats

"This is ridiculous!" Glory inspected her new outfit in the mirror. One measly mall in this town and only one decent clothing store in it. She hated this place so much. Shopping was necessary, though, as Ben kept destroying her clothes whenever he came out. She looked at Doc's reflection behind her. "How many places can that little band of freaks hide?"

"It is...unfortunate that we haven't been able to locate them, oh glorious one." He bowed slightly.

Glory smiled. He'd been getting better at the humility thing. Good. She hadn't been feeling properly worshiped at all. Especially since that little magic shopkeeper had refused to tell them anything.

Still, she'd been sure she would find them soon. But each day, Doc came back with no news about them. She'd been looking for more minions, but loyal ones were hard to find.

"Wherever they're hiding," Glory said as she rifled through her shopping bags. "They're gonna be getting tired of being cooped up. It's been nearly two weeks. Let's just hope someone gets some cabin fever soon."

***

Some might call the décor "rustic". They might say it had a certain warmth to it. But whatever they said, nobody could deny that it was very crisp.

Buffy contemplated the burnt wall in front of her. They'd been holed up in the cinder remains of Sunnydale High for near on two weeks. The panicked escape from the Summers house had been the soundest tactical option at that point, even though emotions had been running high since the discovery of Anya's death. Setting up base at the old school with Willow's protection spell had seemed like a feasible plan. Now, though, after this long, the siege was almost unbearable.

Buffy felt like they were just waiting for Glory to come for them. They'd had no luck finding Glory on their own. So each day passed with the heavy shadow of the hellgod hanging over their heads.

She never talked about the certain death that faced them. For some reason, the others seemed to take comfort somehow and fool themselves into believing that they'd be okay. She knew better, but she couldn't take that from them.

"Buffy," Dawn said, approaching her from behind. "Xander and Spike are back with supplies. Willow's going to heat up some food."

Buffy sighed. Supply runs. Microwaved dinners courtesy of Willow and Tara. Inadequate bathroom facilities. They took turns going to the local pool to take showers. At least she didn't have to worry about money running out. Not after the sizable amount Giles had left her.

She turned, joining Dawn and the others as they sat in what used to be a classroom. Spike lounged on the overturned teacher's desk in the corner, smoking, while Xander passed out paper plates and plastic utensils.

It was like camping. Just not as fun.

As her gaze wandered over the ragtag bunch as they passed out salisbury steak dinners, Buffy couldn't help but wonder: _They pulled me out of Heaven for **this**?_

***

Willow had to hold in the sigh she felt tempted to release. Everybody had a sigh in them right now. No point showing it off.

Buffy had reverted back to her "zombie" state. Well, that's what Willow called it. Where Buffy would zone out and be completely nonfunctional and not help with anything. Actually, it had made things easier. When they'd first arrived at the school, Buffy and Willow had had a large argument about a spell Willow wanted to try.

They were sitting on the Hellmouth. Why not try to put it to use?

But Buffy had explicitly forbade it, and you don't go against Buffy because she's such a leader! Willow rolled her eyes at that idea. As the days went past, though, Buffy drew further and further inward, relinquishing the tight hold she had on the group.

Good thing, too.

Willow had managed to bring a couple of her more interesting magic books with her when they had run from the Summers' house. Just a couple nights ago, she'd started trying to find some way to boost her power using the Hellmouth's energy. If she could do that, then she could find where Glory is, and maybe strike first.

Well, it was worth a try! It was better than sitting around waiting for Glory to find them.

Willow stirred her food around. She'd always hated microwave dinners. They all tasted like cardboard. Soggy cardboard. It didn't help that the dinners had been very quiet as of late. It seemed nobody had a lot to say.

Xander threw his tray onto the ground, abruptly standing up. Willow frowned as he walked out of the room. She glanced at the others.

"Maybe we should - " Tara said.

Willow put her food aside. "I'll go."

Xander was her best friend, after all.

She found him down the hallway, sitting against a row of lockers. His head was down and his shoulders were shaking slightly. Willow sat next to him, unsure of exactly what to say.

She didn't have to say anything. Xander raised his head as soon as her back met the lockers. His cheeks were streaked with tears. "The steak," he said, gesturing with his arm. "It's the steak. A few days before the plane crash, Anya had a craving for steak, and she was bugging me to take her out." He shook his head. "But I hadn't gotten my paycheck yet so I took her to McDonald's instead. She complained the _entire_ time! 'Steak! I wanted steak! Not poorly processed pseudo-meat!' She was driving me nuts!" He paused, smiling softly. The moment only lasted a few seconds before he seemed to realize where he was again. He shrugged. "Damn TV dinners. Salisbury steak. Just…made me remember."

Willow put her arm around her shoulders, letting him sag against her. She sighed.

"Wish I could kill her," Xander said quietly.

She closed her eyes. Xander couldn't fight Glory right now. It would be suicide. He wouldn't stand a chance.

But maybe, with a little help, she would.

***

Tara slept in a different room from her. Willow glanced at the closed classroom door where Tara and Dawn had set up their sleeping bags. She supposed that staying in such a large hide-away had its advantages. She hadn't had to face Tara very often.

And yet, somehow, she still kept hoping that Tara would talk to her. Not about Glory or anything. But about them. She kept thinking that now, after everything that's happened, Tara would finally see that they should get back together.

Willow missed her. She saw her every day, but they might as well be in different countries. Willow spent her time alone or with Xander while Tara kept Dawn company.

Once or twice, Willow had considered trying to talk to Tara. However, it didn't seem appropriate. Not now.

She wanted to talk to her now. Despite her resolve, her nerves were going haywire at what she was going to try. She needed Tara's support more than ever. Tara had been her anchor for so long. She felt so unattached to the world now that they were apart.

There was no help for it, though. Tara wasn't willing to compromise on this.

Willow continued walking down the charred hallway. She heard the faint voices of Buffy and Spike coming from the burnt out cafeteria. Those two were usually together, of course. She couldn't tell what they were saying, but they were speaking in hushed voices. Willow didn't understand why Buffy felt the need to spend so much time with Spike since she came back.

She kept walking, though, hoping that Buffy and Spike wouldn't notice her exit. They had rules against leaving at night, but Willow didn't think the others would understand her reasoning for what she was doing. She had to just do it. Once she was done, then they'd understand.

***

"I'm glad you returned," Rack said, placing his palms together as the magic crackled between them.

Willow bit her lip. She wasn't entirely sure about this, but she had decided that it would be for the best for everyone. They had to be on the offensive. And to do that, Willow needed more magic. She didn't have time to work on the Hellmouth spell. This would have to do.

"I need your help," Willow said, trying to ignore the room around her. It spun with remembered excesses.

"No," Rack circled her. "You _want_ my help." He touched her chest, allowing her a small sip of the power in his grasp.

Her eyes closed as she gasped. It was a jolt. "I…there's something I need to fight…"

"And you need more power?"

"Yes." She opened her eyes to see him standing directly in front of her, regarding her carefully.

"I think," he moved closer to her. Willow could feel it buzzing around the air. Dazzling and warm. It was victory. "I think you _want_ more power."

His breath brushed her ear. His hands were almost against her again. He was almost touching her. Almost giving her what she needed. No. What she craved.

"Yes," her eyes closed again as she felt dizzy from sensation. "Yes, please."

Then he touched her.

***

Glory felt a burst of energy explode in her mind, bringing her to a complete stand-still. She'd been talking to Doc about shoes and then…blank. Then her mind erupted in light and fire, and she knew, clear as anything else, exactly where she needed to be.

She could smell it.

She opened her eyes, smiling at Doc, who was giving her a worried look.

"Forget about the shoes," she said, heading for the door. "I have someplace I gotta be."

***

Willow couldn't believe it. She'd almost forgotten what this had felt like. This bliss that settled over her, sparking and burning through her. She smiled, flexing her fingers. This was power beyond anything she'd had before. She looked at Rack through a magic haze. She could see his soul: black, murky, corrupted from years of black magic.

He was saying something to her, but the words didn't matter. They were only what he wanted her to hear. Instead, she heard what he meant. She was scaring him. He'd never seen a power like hers before, and it intimidated him.

It felt nice.

Then there was another power with them. A throbbing, red beacon of light so bright that it filled Willow's mind and seared her core. Willow shrieked, closing her mind. She stopped looking through the eyes of magic and looked through her own.

Rack was slumped against the wall, life force ebbing quickly. In front of her was Glory. The red beacon. Hellgod.

"Wow. All that power is just, like, _blasting_ a signal everywhere." Glory said, shaking her head. Glory wasn't afraid of her. Why wasn't Glory afraid of her? "Hey," Glory said, leaning forward. "You do know your eyes are black, right?"

She'd make Glory afraid of her.

Willow's arm shot forward, hand wrapping around Glory's throat and crushing with all the force in her. Glory was taken by surprise, but she quickly recovered. She shoved Willow away.

Glory rubbed her neck. "Watch the neckline!"

Willow glanced at Rack who barely had any life left in him. Black soul. Red beacon. Worth a shot. She ran past Glory to crouch down beside Rack. The guy wasn't even conscious. Probably for the best.

Before Glory could react, Willow pressed a hand to Rack's chest, drawing his murky soul through her. Not into her. She didn't want that darkness in her. She acted as a funnel. Taking his soul and focusing it on Glory.

The lights in the room went out, but it didn't matter. The clash of magic and souls lit the air with crackling sparks. Glory screamed as the black wrapped around red, penetrating and enveloping. Fighting evil with evil.

Willow stayed in place, making sure to take everything Rack had. She felt him exhale his last breath as the roof caved in.

***

Buffy sighed in relief when she saw her house was untouched. She and Spike had left as soon as they realized Willow was missing, but they weren't sure of exactly where she would be. Not to mention why she'd be wandering around in the middle of the night.

"Light's off," Spike commented. "She's not in there." He looked around as if Willow might be hiding behind the bushes. "Bloody witch."

Buffy was inclined to agree with him in this case. She'd been agreeing with him way too much as of late. She wasn't sure why she kept finding herself in conversation with her. She didn't mean for it to keep happening. Something about him signaled to her. She couldn't stay away. And during every conversation they had, she had to resist every urge to touch him.

His hand reached out, gripping her shoulder as he held up one finger, listening to something.

"You hear that?" he asked.

She shook her head. "What?" His hand was on her body, cool through her shirt. She tried to ignore it.

"Explosion." He inhaled. "And some fire. That way."

Without hesitation, they were running in the direction he'd nodded. It was a cool night, but Buffy never got winded while running. It was part of being the Slayer. Of course, Spike didn't get winded while running, either. It was also part of being dead.

Not a good time for those thoughts. Focus on the mission: Finding Willow.

They turned the corner to an alley in the undeveloped residential district. _Something_ had exploded there, though Buffy wasn't sure what. Her immediate attention was drawn to the two central figures facing off.

"Fuck," Spike muttered under his breath.

Glory looked a little worse for wear. Her dress was torn, her hair was a mess, and she was actually bleeding from some scrapes. It was more damage than the hellgod usually took.

But she was still standing. She was standing over a barely-fighting Willow, hands prepared to do her brain-suck.

There really was no thought on her part. Buffy sprinted the remaining distance, grabbing Glory around the waist and tossing her away from her friend. She knew Spike would take care of Willow as she put her hands on her hips to face Glory.

The other woman stood up on shaky legs but with a smile on her face. "The Slayer! Long time, no see, Buffy! Hey, I heard you died. What was that like?"

"Why don't I just show you?"

Buffy stepped forward, swinging hard with her fist. Glory was slower than usual. Whatever Willow had done to her had done a lot of damage. Good thing. Without a troll hammer, Buffy didn't stand much of a chance in a hand-to-hand fight with Glory.

There was a satisfying smack as Buffy punched her, sending Glory to impact against the wall of the alley. The hellgod came back quickly, though, throwing her own punch that Buffy managed to duck.

Buffy couldn't help but smile as the fight continued. She was holding her own. Against Glory. They had a chance, then. Maybe things weren't completely hopeless.

Thanks to Willow.

***

It had almost worked. Almost. But there wasn't enough of Rack's soul to fully cover Glory's beacon. Once Willow had run out of ammo, she had had little chance.

Now, though…

She watched through slitted eyes as Buffy and Glory fought. Her friend wasn't exactly winning, but she wasn't losing either. What's more, she seemed to be enjoying herself in a way she hadn't in a long time.

"Willow."

Spike's hand was on her shoulder. He was trying to get her attention. See if she was alright. She ignored him.

She would have lost. All that power she'd had, and she would have lost. She would have ended up a babbling idiot. It wasn't right. And now, Buffy was taking up her fight. The fight that should have been Willow's.

What's more, she was doing a sucky job at it.

Willow watched as Buffy crashed against the wall, pieces of brick breaking off and falling around her. This just wouldn't do. Willow had to fix things. She couldn't trust Buffy to take care of something like this. Not in the state she was.

She stood slowly, only half-aware of Spike helping her up. To her side, in the corner of the alley, was Rack's body. His place had vanished in a jumbled crash of magical energy, but the air was still filled with the aura of power. She still felt it buzzing around her. She breathed it in, letting it strengthen her. Years of dark magic tumbled inside her, residual from some of the most powerful witches. She fanned the embers, lighting them aflame again.

She felt her strength return to her. Close to her, there was a being. No soul. His aura a strange mixture of light and dark. He wasn't important.

No, it was the red beacon she wanted. It had blinded her before but not this time. She could look straight at it and see its fire. It did battle with another one. That one. Shining soul, darkened and weary. And yet...

_Buffy wants to live now._

Finally. Maybe now, Buffy would thank her for the resurrection.

Well, after she thanked her for killing Glory.

Willow was more than just a funnel this time. She _was_ the magic. She let it mix with her own power. And then she used it to attack the beacon. The beacon wasn't expecting it. It recoiled, and Willow clearly saw the light flicker. With her ears, she heard Glory's cry combined with Buffy and Spike yelling.

None of that matter. She continued her assault, focused only on defeating her opponent.

The beacon flickered again. More cries. Then it was gone.

Willow stopped. She thought time might have stopped as well. If she wished it so, she was sure that it would.

No, the beacon wasn't gone. It had just retreated. If she reached a bit further, she could find it. She stretched, feeling, sensing…

She plummeted as the magic started to dissipate from her. The remaining power from Rack's hideaway was leaving. Her own senses were returning to her. She panicked, trying to hold on to the power. She needed it. She'd been so close to fixing everything. She had to do it for her friends.

"Willow."

It was a voice. Her ears rang with the noise. She felt her body again. Disgusting flesh, creeping towards death with each second that passed.

"Willow!"

Another piece of flesh touched her. She flinched, using the last of her power to lash out at it. She just wanted it away from her.

The haze cleared. She was on her knees in the alley. Spike was lying some distance away, bleeding heavily from various wounds on his body. He wasn't moving. Buffy remained standing but was at ready, looking at her like she was the enemy. She'd done that. She'd...why'd she do that?

_tbc..._


	7. Rest

It was red. Her blood. She hardly ever saw it. It looked just like a human's blood though. It was disgusting.

Glory wrapped the robe around herself, careful to make sure all the bruises were hidden before emerging from behind the dressing screen. Doc was waiting for her with a mimosa. She collapsed on the chaise lounge, letting her muscles come to rest for a while.

That had been humiliating. Nearly beaten by some scrawny witch. She'd had to retreat! Oh, she'd be laughed out of the dimension if anybody heard about that. She hadn't told Doc, and he hadn't asked.

The Slayer was just a minor inconvenience to her now. It was the redhead who was the threat. That girl had some power in her. It was insane. It might even be a match for her own.

Glory sipped her mimosa. They'd be expecting her to have to rest and recover after that fight. She wouldn't play that game. She wanted to finish this. Now.

"Here's the plan," she said, lowering her glass. "I'm gonna need you to do a summoning spell."

"And who are we summoning, your worshipfulness?"

Glory smiled, finger gently rubbing her temple. "I got a bit of a link to someone. Let's bring them here."

***

Buffy watched the water trickle down Spike's melatonin-deprived skin. Wisps of red blood left a faint scarlet trail down his body. In the time it had taken to walk back to the school, his wounds had stopped bleeding. However, smears of blood remained scored across his skin to be washed off. Buffy wasn't certain as to why she had taken on the task of cleaning Spike up. It had just been assumed.

Xander would take care of Willow. She would take care of Spike.

Willow's attack had left three large gashes across his chest. It was fortunate that Spike had been the target of Willow's power at that moment. Buffy wasn't certain if even she would have survived that attack.

Willow's attack. Willow attacking _them_. How long had this been going on? Willow and the dark magics. Buffy must have been too involved with herself to even notice her friend faltering like that. She should have picked up on it. How could she not have realized what was going on?

"You've got some wounds of your own, you know." Spike interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up at him. He'd been groggy on the way back to the school, but he seemed to be more aware of his surroundings now. He was looking at her with forced apathy.

"Slayers heal fast," she said. Already, the scrapes and bruises she'd received in her fight with Glory were disappearing. It had been painfully obvious that Glory had not been fighting at her full strength.

"So do vampires." Spike reached for the cloth Buffy was holding. "I can wash myself off. You should rest. See to Dawn."

She blinked, quickly flashing back to Dawn's panicked looked when they had arrived back with a seriously injured Spike. It had taken a few minutes to calm her sister down. Tara had quickly led her away to another room, and Buffy hadn't given her any further thought.

Buffy handed the cloth over to Spike, but she leaned back in her seat, not moving from his side. After a moment, he started to clean the blood from his own skin.

"Willow could have killed you. Well…you know…killed you more," Buffy said. Spike glanced up briefly. "We can't be worrying about hurting each other like that. We have enough to handle with Glory."

He snorted. His skin glistened. Buffy was hypnotized. "Tell me about it," he said, oblivious.

"We have to survive this." It was a thought she'd had while fighting Glory. A desire she hadn't had in a long time. It felt foreign to her. She was a tourist in the land of liveliness.

Spike paused at that and looked at her in that way he has where Buffy thought he was looking right through her soul.

"I want to survive this," Buffy continued. "And I want to live with Dawn and celebrate birthdays and Christmas. And I don't want to lose anybody else. I didn't die and come back just to lose again."

There was a streak of red across Spike's abdomen, but he seemed to have forgotten all about washing up.

"I just don't know how I'm gonna do it," Buffy said. She looking into his eyes for only a second. "Not when I'm wrong."

Spike crinkled his brow. "You're what?"

"Wrong." The word hung over her, overwhelming her as it had these past several weeks. "Like you said. I came back wrong. That's why you can hit me."

If Spike had a soul, Buffy would have said he looked guilty when she said that. But he didn't have a soul, so he couldn't possibly feel guilty about what he had told her. He had had just been truthful.

He sighed. "You're not - bloody hell - I didn't mean…" He looked away from her, gathering his thoughts. "I don't know why I can hit you now. I was blowing off steam. Sometimes I wish…but you're not. Not wrong at all. You were in heaven, Buffy. How could you possibly be wrong?"

"But bringing me back - "

"Probably put a dark smear on Willow's soul for good, but it doesn't touch you." He got quiet, looking at her wistfully. "Don't think any evil thing _could_ touch you. You wouldn't let it."

She'd let him touch her.

"Evil knows evil," he continued. "You're not anywhere near evil or wrong."

"And how evil are you now? Helping the Slayer? Protecting her sister?" Buffy smiled. "You're more like lukewarm evil now."

He smiled with her, but Buffy felt he was far away. "Lukewarm, then. I'll not ever be good and you know it."

She wasn't wrong. Spike, of all people, would know if she were. She could fight Glory if she wasn't wrong.

Spike's hand lay at his side. She reached for it, taking his hand in hers. She watched their fingers intertwine , moisture from the cloth transferring to her hand. She squeezed lightly.

"Thank you." She looked up. "For trying anyway. It helps."

Buffy released his hand, standing up then. Her legs were sore from the fight, but she needed to check on Dawn and see to her own wounds. She smiled at Spike before leaving the room.

***

Willow's head hurt. Her nose was bleeding. She wanted nothing more than to go to bed and sleep for a few days. Instead, she was sitting down, listening to Xander lecture her. She'd stopped listening a few minutes ago. She didn't feel blood coming out of her nose anymore, so she hesitantly put down the paper towel. Blood waterfall? All stopped.

"Are you even listening to me?" Xander's hands were out in his questioning pose, and he was standing right in front of her. He had been pacing. Now he was stationary. He must have said something he thought was important.

Willow sniffed, regretting it instantly as drying blood blocked her airway. She wiped her nose with the towel. "No, I'm not." She met Xander's eyes. "What do you want me to do, Xander? I have all this power that we can use to, oh I don't know, save our lives! Why not use it?"

"Okay, let's see, cause it's evil?" Xander waved his arms. "You're messing with the dark forces Willow. It's not good. Tara can't even be in the same room with you. She said your aura was 'malevolent'."

He might as well have just punched her in the gut. Tara had said just that when she'd arrive back at the school with Spike and Buffy. She couldn't forget it, not matter how hard she tried. Tara had been terrified, almost pained, to be in the same room. She'd quickly led Dawn away, not even looking back at her former lover.

It was not the welcome that Willow had been expecting.

"You should all be thanking me," Willow said, trying to make Xander understand. "I did some serious damage to Glory! And if I get some extra power from the Hellmouth, I can attack her again while she's weakened - "

"You are _not_ doing that again!"

"Xander, it's the only chance we have of winning!"

"But look what it's doing to you! You attacked Spike. And…okay, it's Spike. I can live with that. But what if it had been Buffy? Or Dawn? You weren't in control - "

"I was in complete control." Willow realized she was standing up, face very close to Xander's as she spoke through tight lips. He didn't understand at all. Her oldest friend. He didn't get it. "It's worth the risk. To defeat Glory. Whatever it takes."

Xander shook his head. "Not _you_. I lost the woman I loved in this. I lost the man who's been like a British dad to me for years. I don't want to lose my best friend, too."

Willow sat down. He hadn't really been close to losing her.

Had he?

"Everything I've done," she said, staring down at her shoes. They were green. "I've done to help us."

"I know." Xander knelt in front of her, trying to look her in the eye. "But I'm not willing to lose you to defeat Glory. There'd be no point to defeating her if you weren't around."

He had. This evening, she'd almost been overtaken by the magics. Consumed by the power. It had very nearly destroyed everything around her. It would have destroyed her, given time.

She suddenly felt very far away from herself. Like the Willow she had been was on the shore and she was stuck on an island and she couldn't find a way back to where she once had been. No wonder Tara had left her. Willow wasn't even herself anymore.

"I just wanted to fix things." Her voice squeaked. It did that when she was crying. She felt the tears, but they were Willow's tears, and she still wasn't Willow.

Xander hugged her, holding onto her as if she might float away. "We'll find some other way," he said.

She nodded. He was right. What was the point of using any means necessary if it meant losing sight of what you were actually fighting for? Taking in the Hellmouth's power…the thought terrified her. She thought she could control it. But if she couldn't? Was it worth it?

No. She couldn't put herself at risk. She couldn't risk the lives of Xander or Tara or anyone else. Glory was weakened. They'd find another way to kill her.

***

"Should we check on Spike?" Dawn asked…again.

Tara didn't even look up from the granola bar she was unwrapping. "No, sweetie. Buffy will take care of him."

"Actually, he's taken care of."

Tara looked up at Buffy's entrance. Buffy was smiling, which was a rare sight. It seemed especially out of place to see it tonight. Tara was relieved that Buffy had come, though. She wasn't up to handling Dawn. Not after having seen Willow.

"How is he?" Dawn asked.

Buffy shrugged. "He's fine. Bleeding's already stopped. He'll be back to his annoying self in no time. Hey, granola bars!"

Tara sat back, chewing thoughtfully as she watched the two sisters chat. Buffy seemed lighter. She'd been so haunted since coming back. Especially since Glory had reappeared. There was definitely something different about her now. Whatever it was, Tara was happy for it. They needed Buffy to be a strong leader. Somebody who could take charge besides Willow.

The thought made her pause. Willow had scared her. Just seeing her when she'd come back tonight. Whatever power Willow had been using was overwhelmingly dark. Tara still felt it on her, like poison. Tara could scarcely believe that Willow had that type of darkness inside her.

Part of her wanted so much to be with Willow now. Comfort her and make sure she was okay. Tara didn't just miss Willow. She lived with the constant reminder that she didn't _have_ her anymore. Every day, she saw her and knew that she had let her go. Every day, she was tempted to just give in and take her back. It was the worst form of torture.

And yet, another part of her was repelled by Willow. Disgusted by the dark magic that she was using. She recoiled at the thought of being that close to powers of such evil. She was scared of it. It was the part of her that was sickened when she thought about the memory spells Willow had cast on her, violating her mind.

Tara had to think about herself. She couldn't possibly be with Willow. Not while the specter of black magic followed her. And not while Willow was willing to manipulate her mind without a second thought.

It was the hardest decision she had to make, staying apart from Willow. And it was a decision she continued having to make on a daily basis, whenever she felt her resolve weaken and her desire for the redhead grow.

Thank the Goddess for Dawn. She'd made taking care of Dawn her mission now. She would worry about Dawn so she wouldn't have time to worry about Willow. It's not like anybody else was paying attention to Dawn.

Until now. Dawn laughed at something Buffy said, and Tara smiled along with them. Buffy was coming back to them.

***

They'd all had a late night, what with the fight and the subsequent nursing of wounds. It was afternoon when Tara woke up. Everybody else was still sleeping.

There was something buzzing in her head. It was calling her. Without any awareness of what she was doing, Tara rose from her sleeping bag and began walking out of the school.

There was a room waiting for her. She'd been there before. A tiny room. Dark and noisy. She had escaped from it once. But something now was calling her back to it. She had to go back to it.

Tara's bare feet moved softly across the grass of the lawn in front of the school as she walked away.

_tbc..._


	8. Interruption

Jonathan saw her in his dreams. She never said anything. She'd descend the basement stairs like the ghost he knew she was and stand across from him, blocking the view of the television. Then she would look at him. That was the most frustrating part. He couldn't get away from her eyes, accusing and questioning him for his part in her death.

Some nights he would apologize to her and beg her forgiveness. Other nights, he would yell at her that it was her fault for what had happened. Still other nights would find him sitting across from her, simply staring back with the knowledge that nothing he could say to her would _really_ matter at this point.

That's why she never said anything to him. She didn't care that he was sorry or that they hadn't realized what they were doing. That wasn't her purpose in going to him.

No, he knew why she was there.

Every night she would visit him as a reminder of what he'd done. Her real body lay decomposing at the bottom of the river. It was only in dreams that she could ensure that he wouldn't forget: there was one less person in the world because of him.

Katrina was haunting him.

He'd found himself on several occasions walking past her house, even though it was out of his way. He thought to alleviate his guilt by confessing what he had done to her family. He knew they were worried about her. They had signs up looking for her.

Every time he went past, though, he ended up walking away rather than going to the door. He knew that Katrina would be there at night to remind him of what he should have done. He also knew he was just too scared to do it.

Warren didn't help. Warren hadn't been helping for a while now. And Jonathan knew with every ounce of resolve in his body that Warren was trouble. Any decent person would leave, turn Warren in, just walk out.

Jonathan apparently wasn't that decent person, though.

It was a clear night when they went 'Slayer-sighting'. Warren had been frustrated at the Slayer's disappearance and had been taking them out nightly to look for her in the cemeteries. She never showed. Instead, Jonathan had to sit in the van, listening to Warren and Andrew's banal banter. As if they didn't have blood all over their hands.

Was he the only sane one? The only one who recognized that what they had done was very wrong?

Warren leaned back, contented smile on his face as his fingers tapped the keyboard. He sifted through different camera views. The Summers residence. Spike's crypt. The different graveyards. All empty.

"I'm telling you. She left town to hone her powers!" Andrew's petulant voice rang through the van. He was outside on patrol, having lost their game of rock-paper-scissors. "We should be looking for old wise senseis with convenient access to waterfalls!"

"Yeah, no," Warren rolled his eyes. "She wouldn't just up and leave like that. The Slayer's still here somewhere. And we, as her nemeses, need to find her."

"To kill her?" Jonathan asked from his corner of the van.

Warren turned a heavy gaze on him. "To _defeat_ her. We are super-villains, Johnny-boy. It's what we do."

"I think I liked it better when we just made ourselves invisible and stole money," Jonathan mumbled. Though even those memories were sour to him.

"Eagle Alpha," Andrew's static-laden voice resonated in the small area. "I've spotted one of the Slayer's allies. Um...do you want me to...engage? Over."

Warren and Jonathan both tensed. Though Jonathan could tell by Warren's small smile that he was excited, not nervous as Jonathan was.

"Copy that, Eagle Omega. Which one is it?" Warren asked.

"It's that blonde one that always hangs out with Willow. You know, the quiet one."

Warren rubbed his face. "Damn. Would be nice if it was Buffy's sister," he said off intercom. He switched the radio back on. "Roger that. I'll be right out. We're bringing her in."

Jonathan's stomach sunk through the floor. Through the floor, the ground, and straight on to Hell.

****

"She's not here. Why isn't she here?" Willow didn't like losing her head in a crisis but this...

This wasn't supposed to happen. She was about to start getting better. She was gonna fix things with Tara. She couldn't do that if Tara wasn't there.

"Will," Xander placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "We'll find her. She probably went out for food or something."

Oh, he was so lying. Tara wouldn't wander away like that without telling anyone. Buffy, maybe. Spike, sure. But Tara? No. No, Tara always tried to make sure the group was all together.

Buffy and Spike returned, obviously not having found her.

"Willow," Buffy said. "We're gonna need to find her. Can you do a spell? Location or beacon or...something that says 'Tara is here'?"

Yes, because Willow hadn't been doing enough magic lately.

But this was good magic, and it was for Tara.

She nodded. "Yeah, there's...we did set up a spell a while back to help us find each other."

"That glowy spell!" Xander said.

Willow nodded. The last time they'd used it had been right after they'd resurrected Buffy. Tara had used it to lead Willow to her. Willow would have to modify it so that it took them to Tara.

"Okay," Buffy said. "Will, you do that spell. Spike and I will go get Tara."

"Uh...you mean 'Spike, _Willow_, and I'. I'm going, too." Willow said.

"No. Glory can sense you outside the barrier. The last thing we need is to broadcast to Glory where we are."

Willow opened her mouth to protest but...it made sense. In that frustrating, 'why does it have to make sense?' sort of way.

"Besides," Buffy added. "I want you here to watch Dawn."

Dawn smiled for a brief second.

Concern for Tara kept a cloud of gloom over the group, though. Smiles didn't last long.

Xander put a supportive hand on Willow's shoulder.

"I'll help you do the spell, Will."

Willow nodded, quelling the surge of panic that was running through her. She had to depend on Buffy. That's what Willow had brought her back for, after all.

****

"So, explain it again. What are we doing with her?" Andrew crossed his arms, eyes shifting from Tara to Warren.

They'd made it back to the basement base without any problems. The girl had been in some sort of trance, but she'd snapped out of it as they'd forced her into the van. She had been disoriented, though, which made it easy to tie her up and -

There was that pang of guilt. That niggling sense that what they were doing was wholly _wrong_. Jonathan was having trouble ignoring it.

This had been fun, at first. Playing at being super-villains, acting out their fantasies, getting loads of cash. But it was hurting other people. Like that dumb enhancement spell he'd done a couple years ago. He hadn't thought about the other people whose lives he was changing until Buffy told him...

This went above and beyond, though. Why was he Buffy's nemesis again? Wasn't Buffy the good guy? Didn't _he_ want to be the good guy?

"Listen," the girl spoke up. "You don't want to get involved with Buffy right now. Just...trust me. Let me go, I'll walk away, no harm."

Warren laughed. "No, cupcake. You see, you," he pointed at her. "Are our ticket to the Slayer. She's been hiding, but she'll come out to rescue a friend. And when she comes, we will be prepared for her."

"Yeah," Andrew giggled. "See, we have this thing that Warren made - well, I helped. Jonathan didn't do much - but, he made this thing that will - "

"Hey, Jar Jar?" Warren gave an irritated glare to Andrew. "How 'bout we _not_ tell her our master plan?"

"Oh, right." Andrew looked chagrinned. "Cause that's a no-no on the Evil Overlord list."

Warren rolled his eyes, his face tensing in irritation. Standing, he roughly grabbed Andrew and left to go upstairs. "I want you to show me this thing _again_ to make sure you didn't screw it up," he said as they left.

Jonathan was uncomfortable. Left alone with the girl. The tied up girl. The tied up girl they had kidnapped.

He was doing everything in his power to avoid looking at her. He stared at the comic book rack, pretending to be interested in the latest issue of Spider-Man. The cover image blurred and doubled as he lost the will to focus. His entire thought was concentrated on pretending she wasn't there.

"I know you," the girl spoke.

Jonathan closed his eyes. Why wouldn't she leave him alone?

"You did that spell a couple years ago. Right? To make yourself cooler?"

She remembered him. He didn't remember her. He didn't know a thing about her except that she was Willow's girlfriend. What was her name? Did she even have a name?

"I guess you went to high school with Buffy...and Willow. I think you're a good person. I know it's hard when you're in a group of people to be able to...still be yourself. To not lose yourself for the group. But...well, you know this is wrong."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. She knew he knew it was wrong. But she didn't know that he was also a murderer. Kidnapping a girl was just pebbles compared to what he'd done before.

"You can still fix this."

How? Katrina was dead; her body callously disposed of. He couldn't do anything to change that now.

"You want to fix this...don't you?"

Jonathan closed his eyes. It didn't help. He was still a murderer. But...

He did want to fix things. Somehow.

***

The fairy light ahead of them twinkled. It was so bright. It almost felt alive.

Buffy liked it.

Okay, so it was just a magical spell to lead them to Tara. But it felt like she was looking at something inside her. Something she'd just recently found again. It was refreshing.

Course, every silver lining had a dark cloud attached to it. Tara. They were so few now, and Tara's mysterious disappearance was demoralizing. Even as Buffy was beginning to feel better about _herself_, the situation she'd found herself in had gotten even worse.

Spike and Buffy been following the light in silence together. Not an awkward silence, but a comfortable silence. He had absolved her of her wrongness. It was kinda silly when she thought about it. She'd been convinced he was right. She'd been looking for a reason to _be_ wrong. And...that was the last thing she needed now. Spike knew she wasn't like him.

Which, actually, made him more like her.

But in a good way.

They had reached a neighborhood of rental houses, if the yard signs were any indication. The light had stopped in front of a house with an older car outside. A standard, small house. Blue recycling bin, metal trash can, dark alleyway beside it. Nothing unusual or out of the ordinary. But this was Sunnydale and the dark and demonic usually hung out with the 'ordinary'.

"Glory?" Buffy asked. It didn't make sense. Glory liked upscale places. Penthouses or mansions or temples or something. Not a run-down little rental smack dab in the middle of the 'bad' part of Sunnydale. Wasn't her style.

Spike shook his head. "Don't think this is Glory's doing."

Buffy sighed, frustrated at the thought that there might be yet _another_ enemy for her to fight. She began to move forward but paused, turning towards Spike. She placed a hand on his chest, waiting for the almost-imperceptible wince.

"Your injury," she frowned. The wound Willow had given him was still there. It would be a liability.

He took her hand in his, moving away from his chest. "It's alright. Almost healed up. Vampire, remember?"

He was faking it. She could so tell. Trying to act like he hadn't just gotten a gaping chest wound the other day. Vampire or not, that took a while to heal. But she would likely need him in a fight, and she knew nothing would keep him from helping. She nodded, pulling her hand away.

"Just making sure you're not gonna wuss out on me." His presence still made her tingle. His touch sent a jolt of life through her. Given breaths of life from a dead man. Her world was so strange.

Spike chuckled. "You just do your Slayer thing. I'll be watching your back very closely."

She grinned at the innuendo.

Then Buffy turned back to the house with the fairy light blinking in front of it. Time to rescue Tara.

***

"I still think we should do a ransom note. It's like a classic..."

"Did your brain get replaced with an even _thicker_ rock, dumbnut? One, we're not holding her for ransom. We're using her as bait to get the Slayer to come to _us_. Two, we don't even know where the Slayer _is_. Three, you're not cutting up my official Fabbri Star Trek Magazines thosearecollectiblesdammit!"

"But the lettering is perfect! Get away from me, you Wesley-lover!"

Jonathan was barely cognizant of the physical struggle going on between Warren and Andrew. Over a magazine. As the girl they'd kidnapped watched.

Wow, they were really bad guys.

There was a movement on the surveillance cameras. Two figures quickly were approaching the house. Buffy and Spike.

So this is the part where their plan had worked, right?

Jonathan fingered the hastily crafted weapon that Warren and Andrew had made for this occasion. When he looked up, the girl was watching him expectantly.

Funny. He could have sworn Katrina had been a brunette.

***

The house had been easy to break into. A bit of Slayer heft and the deadbolt caved easily, and Spike and Buffy were granted admittance. Buffy frowned and looked back at the doorway. No barrier for Spike.

Wasn't important.

The place obviously wasn't really _lived_ in. No furniture. No lights. No people...

Scratch that. Buffy could hear people arguing loudly. She glanced at Spike, making sure he was in sync.

A sliver of light shone from under the door in the kitchen. Stairs led down to the basement. They'd be walking down into a confined area with only one exit. Everything screamed at her that this was a trap.

And yet, she didn't feel a sense of impending dread. A trap it may be, but not a very good one.

Besides if Tara were down there, they really had no choice.

The sounds of struggle got louder as they went down the stairs. The scene that greeted them at the bottom was almost comical.

Two boys were wrestling over a magazine while that short guy - Jonathan - and Tara, who was tied up though apparently unharmed, watched. The action paused as the boys noticed her arrival. With all the grace of a newborn duck, the brunet guy broke off from the little play-fight and scooped up a very strange, sci-fi looking...thing. It had duct tape on it.

Spike snorted with a chuckle behind her, and she couldn't blame him. She crossed her arms.

"Okay," she said, fighting back a smile. "What is _this_?"

The geekazoid with the sideburns brandished his...thing. "_This_ is your ultimate end, Slayer. We are villains, and we've been working behind the scenes for _months_ now in this town."

The taller, scrawny guy behind him nodded. "We have."

Okay, Loser 1 and Loser 2...not a threat. She turned to Jonathan, who really wasn't looking too good. A bit on the skinny side with some scruffy, unkempt hair.

"Jonathan, what is this?" she repeated her question.

He looked startled by the direct question. "We're the bad guys," he finally replied.

"Fine. Whatever," Buffy started to move across the cluttered basement to get to Tara. "I'm gonna get my friend and leave. You guys have no idea what bigger problems I have right now..."

"Not so fast, Slayer!" Loser 1 shook his thing. She paused, aware that Spike was moving forward to take a flanking position if need be. "This is a very powerful weapon, and I think it would be best that you _not_ take the girl."

"That's not a weapon, you git," Spike said. "That's an old Nerf gun held together by duct tape and wishes."

"Actually," Loser 2 spoke up. "It _is_ a weapon. And, yeah, based on the Nerf gun chassis, but it actually uses the paralyzing agent of a demon called Gnarl, who's this kinda Gollum-type thing...except he eats flesh, which Gollum didn't do. Though he _did_ eat raw fish, but that's kinda different. Actually, Gnarl's not much like Gollum at all except - "

"Okay, En-nerd-ipedia Brown? Cut with the chatter." Loser 1 admonished his partner. "Point is, it can paralyze you. Completely and permanently. Don't think I'm afraid to use it either."

"Yeah, he really isn't," Loser 2 said supportively.

Buffy didn't have time for this. She had an angry hellgod hunting her and her friends down. She'd already lost people. These guys? Were just ridiculous.

She looked to her side, making eye contact with Spike. He gave a barely noticeable nod.

Without any further banter, Buffy surged forward, ducking to avoid any paralyzing blasts. Her objective was getting the gun away from Loser 1. Spike would get Tara.

As she delivered a restrained punch to his mid-section, she heard the unmistakable zap of weaponry going off...then failing as the device sparked and fizzled. Loser 1 cursed as Buffy ripped the object from his grip and knocked him to the ground.

Loser 2 yelled - or rather, wailed - while attempting to...do something only barely resembling actual fighting. Buffy quickly disabled him and sent him to the floor as well.

She turned. Spike was already untying Tara. Jonathan remained seated in front of the wall of computer monitors, watching but not participating.

"You gonna try to fight me too, Jonathan?" she asked.

He shook his head, eyes on the unconscious bodies of his buddies. "I'm actually gonna..."

She folded her arms, waiting expectantly. Spike had Tara freed and was moving her towards the exit.

"We did some bad things," Jonathan finally said. "A girl...she got killed." He paused, brow furrowing. "_We_ killed her."

"I don't think I'm the one you need to be confessing to about that."

He nodded. Finally, he looked up to meet her gaze. "I'll take care of it."

She hesitated. She didn't want to stay away from the school for too long. They were too exposed. Just laying themselves open to Glory's attack. But could she trust Jonathan to do as he promised and get these creepo nerds turned in?

"Really, Buffy. I want to do this. I never wanted to hurt anybody."

She knew that to be true. Jonathan may have been misguided at times, but he was mostly harmless.

Buffy nodded, giving him her best Slayer Look before turning to follow Spike and Tara out of the house.

Back to the safe place.

***

Glory slammed a hand against the window, instantly obliterating it to miniscule pieces. Behind her, Doc went to fetch the broom and dustpan.

Little blonde witch should have arrived by now. Glory frowned. This was getting irritating.

***

Jonathan hung up the phone. It almost slipped from his sweaty palm as he put it back on the base. The police were coming.

He felt his insides bubbling in fear.

They were gonna take him away.

He calmed his breathing as best he could before going back downstairs to watch over Warren and Andrew until the cops arrived.

Jonathan froze at the bottom. His lungs quit working again as a sense of pure panic worked its way through his body.

Warren was gone.

_tbc..._


End file.
